Who Controls the Past Controls the Future
by Rogue Requiem
Summary: After getting nightmarish visions about a deadly enemy hellbent on destroying Yami and everyone else she cares about, Tea is sent back to Ancient Egypt by a force well beyond her control. Making enemies of the Pharaoh's priests, warding off Bakura's fury, gaining an ally in an uncouth, female master thief, and having Malik mess with her emotionally wasn't exactly part of her plan.
1. Ch 1: Amethyst

**A/N: Hello, Readers! Rogue Requiem here with her first ever taken seriously fic. Normally, I'm very shy when it comes to people I know reading what I write, but hopefully if I gather support from you lovely people, I'll gain some confidence to be able to show those nearest to me my works. (The way I hide this from my Mom, she's probably thinking I'm writing porn or something... Ugh.)**

**But first, as always, the Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh or any of its affiliates. Never have, never will. It solely belongs to the brillant Kazuki Takahasi. I'm just playing around with it for a bit.**

**Setting: Before/During Battle City and 3000 years in the past in Ancient Egypt**

**Full Summary: When Tea Gardner suddenly starts getting nightmarish visions about a deadly enemy hellbent on destroying Yami and everyone else she cares about, our favorite dancer is more than a little concerned. But she isn't alone. Forces beyond her control aren't liking the outlook of the future, either, and so choose to send her back to where all the hatred began in order to stop it: Ancient Egypt. But how is she supposed to survive in this barbaric time with little to no previous knowledge about****it? Why, by the "help" of the greatest band of thieves alive, of course...**

**A Note on Names: Mostly, I use the Japanese names, although I warn you: I've only really seen the English version of the show. I know the major differences between the two, but as for the minor stuff..... If there's anything incorrect with the original version that really bothers you, I'll try to change it if it doesn't interfere with the plot. As for why I use Tea Gardner instead of Anzu Mazaki, you'll see later. It's not too terribly important but it spawned the line that began this story in the first place... I'll let you know.  
**

_Who Controls the Past Controls the Future_

_Chapter 1: Amethyst _

_The world was holding its breath. Tension was steadily building like a choking, ominous cloud as every living force, even Nature, one of the most powerful influences on Earth, braced for impact. What was once a calm, innocent, bright day had now surrendered to darkness, but this darkness was not natural. Night was not due for several more hours, as it was surely known by the citizens of the Eastern World, and yet the sun did not grace its presence on the Western World, either. Instead, for the first time in the world's history, all of its people located throughout every corner of the Earth were united by a strangling fear as the sun appeared to be forcibly snuffed out. The sun was not the only source of light to suffer. Where certain parts of the world had still been slumbering in the embracing arms of night, stars had been extinguished one by one. Even artificial lights had met their end to these dominating shadows down to the last street lamp. However, for all their supremacy and power, they did not converge into the absolute, uncompromising darkness one experiences with shut eyes. Objects, landscapes, and people could be seen clearly due to the changing hues of the covering darkness, ranging from crimson red, royal purple, navy blue, sickly green, and, of course, desolate black. One would think that seeing the world, no matter how horrifying, instead of facing the unknown would assuage a person's fears, but no such thing occurred to a certain blue-eyed brunette girl who seemed to notice nothing of her surroundings but the cruel, unrelenting laugh of the man who was causing all the madness as he stood before her._

_Her body and mind were in a pure state of unadulterated panic and shock, the slight trembling of her body and her jagged breathing the only indications that she was, in fact, still living, and not turned to stone. Or sucked into the ravenous shadows to have every little thing about her essence devoured as her beloved friends had been. Her legs had given up supporting her weight for some time as she slouched on the ground like a rag doll, her thoughts focusing on only one topic._

Dead…They're all dead…All of them…Jonouchi, Mai, Honda, Shizuka, Kaiba, Mokuba, Ryou, Yugi, Yam--

_And at this, her thoughts came to a grinding halt as she brought her hand to cover her mouth both to stop her tormentor from hearing her chocked sobs and to ward off her oncoming bout of nausea as she remembered just _how_ her friend, the former Pharaoh, had met his end. He had not been swallowed up by the shadows as the others had been, for the others had at least still been alive and in a relatively good condition. No, Yami had been the one in possession of Yugi's body as Yugi's spirit was absorbed in darkness, the penalty of a lost Shadow Game. The victor of the duel had decided that he wanted something a bit more…_special_ for Yami, and without further thought, he plunged that hidden dagger of his into Yami's flesh over and over and over again. Each time, the dagger emerged gleaming wickedly, pleased at the sticky, red liquid settling steadily over it, which allowed it to bring out its golden shine. With a final cut of the throat, Yami was discarded, the body flung away carelessly as the shadows moved to engulf it. _

_The girl shut her eyes painfully against the memories, trying to convince herself that it did not happen, that it could not have happened, only to be greeted with Yami's lifeless eyes and horror-struck expression as his blood formed in puddles around him. To add salt to her wound, when she opened her eyes once more, she found that it definitely _had_ happened as she saw his thin rivulets of blood run themselves steadily down the incline of the slightly uneven ground, the only thing left of him. She froze when she realized an even more terrifying notion; it was dead silent. Her torturer had stopped laughing and was no longer in her line of vision. She panicked, eyes darting around feverishly, trying to pinpoint him, for the only comfort she had was that, if he was in sight, she could be somewhat prepared to face whatever horrors he had in store for her._

_When she felt a pair of strong, tan arms encircle her waist from behind and a head rest on her shoulder, his lips brushing her ear, she found out just how unprepared she was. Her eyes widened even further, if it was possible, in fear and anxiety as she fought the urge to scream bloody murder and faint. She had no idea what to do in this situation seeing as how her mind refused to function, and she was humiliated to find that he knew it as well as he began to chuckle darkly at her weakness._

"_There, there, little one. Why all the fuss?" he taunted, his baritone voice taking on a silky tone as he smirked at her. At her replying whimper, he laughed again and began to stroke her hair in a cruelly comforting gesture, as both knew that hell would freeze over before he would sincerely mean it._

"_Wh-what do you want?" She finally found the courage to speak, unable to remain silent any longer, but she knew that she would have to tread carefully if she wanted to still be alive long enough to find her answers._

"_Do you really have to ask, kitten?" he grinned, himself knowing that if his knack of answering a question with a question did not unnerve her, his twisted pet names would. Seeing her swallow nervously, he narrowed his eyes in satisfaction before continuing, "Have you ever heard of the notion that there are men in this world simply out to see the world burn? Well, I fully endorse that notion, but it's only fair to tell you that I am no man, but now the God of this world. So, tell me, Miss Gardner," he took her chin gently, but firmly, moving her so that she was staring, inches from him, into his malicious, laughing amethyst eyes and lowered his voice into a seductive purr, "how does it feel to be held in the arms of God?"_

_He laughed maniacally, his words having the desired effect as she blushed violently, stunned, and began to sputter incoherencies. Still chuckling softly, he released her and moved to stand in front of her once more, choosing to ignore her for the moment while he observed how the world was being affected by his good works. _

_Meanwhile, the azure-eyed girl was trying desperately to get her composure, and apparently, her hormones, in control. She was outraged and disgusted at herself for allowing him to undo her so thoroughly, and a fresh wave of hatred swept through her for him, allowing her to finally put her fear aside and study him. For patterns, weaknesses, _anything_, so that she could destroy this disgusting creature that managed to completely dismantle her life in less than five minutes._

_Looking up at him, she observed from his sideways stance his ensemble of beige combat pants, a sleeveless black shirt, and, billowing out behind him in a true, superior fashion, a purple cloak. Shadows were converging lovingly around him, giving him the appearance of not truly being all there, though she knew it was just an illusion of sorts. He also had gold jewelry located strategically at his wrists, upper arms, and neck, with earrings to boot. Spiky, untamable platinum blond locks fell around his shoulders and down his back slightly and were currently being blown about lightly by the wind. As he turned to look at her once more, her eyes narrowed in confusion as she finally noticed that she could not quite make out his face. The only thing she could distinguish clearly were his harsh, probing violet eyes, that damned smug mouth of his, and the Eye of Anubis glowing forbiddingly from his forehead. She did not understand it; why couldn't she see him? _

It's not like he's a mile away or anything_, she attempted to reason while she rubbed her eyes, checking for blurriness, only to find no change,_ but, oh, how I wish he was. _And, this thought brought a slight smile to tug at her lips until she remembered just _who_ was currently watching her, so she schooled her features carefully back into simple curiosity before he noticed anything._

_He noticed. He always could when it came to her, but, really, it wasn't like it was a challenge. She had never led a hard life that forces its students to keep their emotions guarded or be fed to the wolves. How could she ever expect to hide anything from the darkness, from God, anyway? He smirked anew and, advancing towards her, picked up their forgotten conversation._

"_Do you consider yourself a good person, Miss Gardner?" He took her unsure silence for a 'yes' and continued, "But, of course, you must. After all, I can't possibly understand why someone would associate themselves with that idiotic, self-righteous Pharaoh and not try to kill him if they weren't a good person." Both were surprised at the animalistic snarl she gave after he tarnished the memory of her dear friend and past love. Realizing what she just did, she winced in embarrassment, and then fear, thinking that he would turn homicidal on her in less than a half-second, and was surprised just to see him smile in amusement. "It's nice to know that there's still some fight in you. I was beginning to think I was talking to a mindless shell. I'll have to keep that in mind. But, oh, that's right." He noticed. "You had a thing for him at one point, didn't you? Strange, then, that not even five minutes ago, you allowed his killer to not only embrace you without a struggle but also to seduce you into a frenzied state of _lust_, no matter how brief. Hmm. I guess you're not so good, after all, eh, my dear?" _

_She was outraged beyond words. _How dare he! _She screamed in her head. _How dare he!_ How was he able to do that, anyway? How was he able to pull her deepest, darkest thoughts locked within the hidden recesses of her mind out into the open so easily? He truly was a menace delivered straight from Hell. Only someone as wicked as he could attack and completely destroy not only the body but also the heart and mind of a person beyond repair. How? How was he able to do this and not feel anything but pleasure? _It's not right… I never believed there could be an absolute evil in this world_, she mourned, _and I have never regretted being so wrong before._ For the first time in her life, she wanted to strike out at a fellow human being (if you could call him that) in hate. She wanted to maim, to kill, and, as she opened her mouth to utter what could only lead to her doom, he suddenly turned feral, like he could hear her thoughts, and, lunging toward her, he grabbed her by the throat with one hand and hoisted her up to meet his merciless gaze. She felt her breath rip out of her from the sheer force of his grip, his nails biting into her skin. She attempted to loosen his clutch around her throat by clawing at his hand with her much sharper, manicured nails and was satisfied to see that she had pricked him hard enough to draw a few droplets of blood that flowed down the back of his hand to his wrist. Her small triumph over him was quickly transformed into dismay when she noticed that not only did her efforts not seem to affect him at all, but also that his grip only tightened further. _

"_But, enough idle chat, Miss Gardner, for it seems to me that you have one of two choices to make here." His gaze hardened, his mouth twisting into a grimace as he drug her through Yami's remaining blood and surrounding debris, which was no easy task since she chose to turn limp and drag her feet in an effort to slow their advance, towards the edge of the metallic tower the two were currently atop. _

Tower!? _She yelled, disoriented. _How long have we been on a tower!?

"_The first choice is the obvious one," he continued. "You can simply choose to act as irritating as you are right now and remain my enemy, uncooperative and unrelenting in your path of integrity, to which I will be certain to dispose of you in an even harsher way than your dearly demised Pharaoh for the crime of deliberately wasting my time. Or," he hesitated, wanting the tension to demoralize her before he revealed his thoughts. _

"_Or, what?" she whispered hoarsely, still not able to breath properly and unable to stand his little mind games in her current condition._

"_Or, you obey my every whim like the servant you are. Simple, yes?" he mocked. "I know what you're thinking. Why would I need something like a servant if I intend to destroy everything around me? I think you misunderstood me before, kitten. While chaos and destruction are things I covet, I understand that it's rather…difficult to be a god of nothing. Look at it this way. A deal, if you will. You serve me faithfully, and I reward you by reviving those friends of yours I fed to the shadows. They will still be alive for quite some time. All you have to do is cooperate." He lied swiftly. Sensing she would respond, he loosened the clasp he had on her to allow oxygen to enter her stinging lungs once more and waited impatiently for her to catch her breath._

"_Why does it matter to you to even offer to keep me alive?" She remarked finally, bitter at her so-called choices but still curious and hopeful enough that he would consider sparing her friends from their fate. "Why me? Why am I so _special_?"_

_He smiled. "You remember that fighting spirit of yours? It showed me that you hadn't broke as I expected you to, and that _excites_ me, kitten. Let's face it, it's the fighters that are the fun ones; You're amusing when you fight the unconquerable, and frankly, I want to see how far we can push it." His smile changed horribly, then, into a fiendish grin of sick delight. "Y'see, my dear, I have a funny obsession of…dismantling people. Seeing what makes them tick. And, I'm anxious to see how much pressure you can take," he increased the grip on her throat slightly, "how much pain you can withstand, how much trauma your mind can handle before you…_shatter!_" _

_And here, he gave her one final, cruel smile before shoving her completely off the rampart of the tower for her to plunge to the ground below, with nothing more than his laughter for guidance. That was when everything went pitch black for the stricken girl as true darkness took over, and yet, she was still falling. She could not comprehend why she had not hit the ground yet, for surely she should have by now, and suddenly she was hammered by the sensation that she had been falling for years, decades even, and was left haggard by the feeling. She had finally accepted that she would fall forever, feeling as if centuries had passed her by, when, unbelievably, a voice, sexless, ageless, and strong, called out to her through the gloom._

**The future has never been set in stone. The past can change to bring a better outcome for the future. Wrongs can be righted. Friendships repaired. Lovers reunited. Enemies destroyed. But, this is only possible if people, the writers of Fate, use the opportunities given to them to make it so. In order to save your friends, your family, the world, and yourself, you must first save your enemy, who is not even aware of the consequences his path has set him on. Remember this, for you do have a choice to make that will determine if these events come to pass. What you have seen is what will happen if you should fail. Remember this, for it alone will save you from the dark and the master that controls it.**

**And, thus, it begins….**

_And the voice's oracle, after repeated itself several times to be sure that its message was received, faded from existence into nothing. And the girl was left alone again, except this time, the true darkness had given way to true light that encircled and filled her with strength and hope. But, she was still falling, hard and fast, for even if she was prepared for her journey, it was clear indication that her future and those of her friends were still lost in the void of vicious laughter and amethyst eyes…_

------------------------

Téa Gardner, an energetic, loving, intelligent girl of seventeen, shot up with a scream in her bed as the last traces of that horrible vision faded from her eyes. She realized she was shaking slightly and drenched in a cold sweat. Groaning, she pulled her knees to her chest, still in a sitting position, and hugged them, covers and all, while she buried her face into her knees.

_Thank God, it was just a dream after all. But, how could it have felt so real? _She violently shuddered, then, as she relived the feel of his arms around her, the sound of his laughter in her ear, and the grip he had on her neck. Self-consciously, she reached her hand up to feel her throat, half-expecting to still feel his steel-like grip around it and vaguely wondered if there would be a few bruises shaped like fingers if she looked.

A shuffling at her door startled her as the concerned voice of her mother broke through her grim thoughts. "Honey, are you alright in there?"

"Fine, Mom. Bad dream. Don't worry about it. I'm fine. Go back and get some sleep. I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's fine, dear. But, if you're sure… Good night, honey."

Glancing at her clock to discover that it was just three in the morning nearly made her curse aloud, but instead, she answered her mother's call of good night with one of her own, listening hard as her footsteps resided back down the hall.

So, a prophetic dream, then. It was the only conclusion she could come to, for, while she and the man's conversation was somewhat fuzzy, that disconnected voice of the oracle rang clear in her mind. _Would that really be our future if we didn't try to stop it? Surely we would, right? We've never even met that man before, so what could he possibly have against us? And, why couldn't I ever make out his face clearly? It doesn't make sense, but, if all this is true, then why was it sent to me? Why not the Pharaoh and Yugi? What could I possibly do to prevent this? Hell, what am I supposed to do now? …The morning. I'll think about this in the morning. I'll tell Yugi and the others at school. They'll know what to do. I hope._

With that, she sighed quietly and moved to lie back down to return to a peaceful slumber only to receive a restless night of tossing and turning, for whenever she closed her eyes, she could feel those violet eyes burning into her and those arms enclose her and would feel a fresh wave of panic all over again. And this time, there really was no escaping it.

**A/N: Reviews shall be treasured forever....**


	2. Ch 2: Speculations

**A/N: So, I was able to get this chapter up quicker than I expected. I apologize if you were expected some insane amount of action at this point, but I'm afraid I just couldn't make that happen. Not yet, anyway. It would have been too soon, for my tastes. Being just the second chapter, I felt that it was important to establish just _where_ we were in Battle City, state the relationships of the characters, and get inside Tea's head a bit more.**

**A huge shout-out and thank you to my first and only reviewer, Merciless Ruby. You're pretty much amazing and awesome, and I thoroughly appreciate the support. I vow that even if one person likes this story that I will complete it to the best of my ability. **

**Disclaimer: If I created Yu-gi-oh, why would I be on a fan fiction site spouting out random ideas for free? Wouldn't I just add it to the series and make more money? Hm... well, yeah, probably.  
**

_Chapter 2: Speculations_

By the time Téa finally achieved slipping into the embrace of sleep, it was 5:30 in the morning only to have her alarm clock violently declare that she needed to get dressed and go to school thirty minutes later. Groaning, a hand shot out of the covers, fumbling blindly around her dresser to locate the source of that dreadful blaring. Knocking over a few miscellaneous items in the process, it finally discovered the position of the clock to jab the miraculous invention of the "sleep" button. Once the noise ceased, the hand flopped off the dresser and slid back under the covers where the groaning mass turned over to find rest again.

This process happened two more times every ten minutes until the fourth time, when, strangely, the blare of the clock changed into thunderous, agonizing poundings! Disoriented, the hand stretched out once more for the source of the noise when a shrill voice rang into the room, effectively jolting Téa awake.

"Téa Gardner! Get up right this instant or you'll be late for school!"

Téa was nothing but a light blue blur --- the color of her spaghetti-strapped pajama top and assorted-blue plaid pajama pants --- as she flung the covers off her lithe form and sprang forth in the general direction of her closet. For once she appreciated the fact that Japanese schools typically require students to wear uniforms, thus saving her wasted time in finding a suitable outfit. While grabbing the blue and pink attire assigned to the female population of Domino High School, she jogged through her door and across the hall to her bathroom as she called to her mother, who had made her way downstairs after Téa's wake-up call, "Yeah, Mom, I'm up! Be down in a few minutes, I'm almost ready! Promise!" She could almost hear her mother's unbelieving snort of cynicism as she, her beloved daughter, tried to downplay the situation to sound as if she weren't at fault. Well, what else is a teenager expected to do? Take responsibility for their actions? Pssh. Yeah, okay. She'll try that next time. Maybe.

_And, why not, let's add an 'lol' in there for good measure…_ She smiled sardonically. No, it was never a good thing for her to become sleep deprived if what she reduces to is talking in chat speak in day-to-day conversation. Closing the bathroom door with a snap, she decided that a hot shower was most definitely in order if it would jump start her mind into thinking… not so retardly… _Oh, yeah, a shower is undeniably needed right now. I don't even think that's a real word…_ Her one regret was that, being that she was incredibly behind in her schedule, she would have to settle for a five-minute, fast-as-lightning, military shower. Sighing audibly as she adjusted the hot and cold knobs of the stand-up porcelain shower, she sat back, dulling thinking to herself, _My life is a dark abyss… Especially if recent dream sequences are taken into account…__Why can't the universe go bother someone else for a change, like it's mom? Or something. God, I really have it bad, don't I? I'm thinking 'Your Mom!'__jokes… to _myself!

Shaking herself out of her (pathetic) reverie, she quickly undressed and jumped into the shower, pulling the curtain behind her. Once she was finished, in just four minutes mind you, she dried herself off with a white towel hanging from the typical plastic railing found in most bathrooms, slipped on her uniform, and proceeded to tackle drying and untangling her damp hair. Once that task was completed, she quickly brushed her teeth, utilized her Listerine mouthwash, and applied the scant amount of makeup she needed in an average day. She felt very fortunate that she did not need to deal with as much makeup as other girls sometimes had to, seeing as how she was blessed to be free of most skin problems. Oh, sure, she'd get the occasional pimple or skin blemish now and again, but who doesn't? Once again, though, they were rarely ever noticeable. Instead, she paid the most attention to her eyes, since she believed they were her best feature, and focused on applying blue eyeliner on the edges of the eye, a tasteful blend of eye shadow, and the right amount of black mascara to give her baby blues a little _pop!_ She made sure not to go overboard with it; she never really had liked the Gaara-like Hilary Duff look, anyway; it didn't match her skin tone.

She returned to her room only long enough to pull on her shoes, grab her purse and book bag , and glance at her digital clock currently blaring 8:06. She rushed downstairs into the kitchen where her mother had her back turned to her as she faced the stove. Not even a second after she skidded through the door-less entryway, the toaster resounded with a _ding!_ and shot two pieces of fairly browned toast into the air, which Téa caught on reflex…and promptly threw down towards the counter since they were still searing hot. As she made small sounds of discomfort, the girl could only think sarcastically how, if that shower hadn't woken her up, scorching pieces of bread had!

"You really should learn to be more careful with yourself and your surroundings, dear," her mother reprimanded gently as she turned around to hand Téa a paper towel for her to carry her soon-to-be-hastily-eaten breakfast. Watching her daughter's fevered maneuverings around the kitchen to get to the front door, she continued her motherly duties of assisting her only child, stating, "Your friend, Yugi, called while you were in the shower. I told him you were running a little late and that he didn't have to wait for you if he needed to get to school earlier. He said that he didn't mind and to still meet up with him in front of the game shop. _So_ polite and well-mannered. He always is; Tell me, why is it you haven't asked him out again?" She finished on an innocent note, too innocent, with a small grin on her face.

Hearing this, Téa felt the heat and blood rush uncontrollably to her cheeks and tripped slightly on the welcome mat located right in front of the door. Just wanting to get as far away from the conversation as possible, she wrenched open the door and stepped out, sputtering, "Mom! I've told you! It's because of…stuff! Just stuff, _nothing_ else. 'Kthanksbye!"

_Gah, why does she always do this at the most inopportune times, at least for me? If there's one thing I know, she must _never_, under any circumstances, find out about that…blind date that Yugi tricked Yami and me into. I'd never hear the end of it._

And with that, the flustered girl pulled the door to and began the short sprint to Yugi's grandfather's game shop, munching on her toast when she could. The rapid succession of her morning had left the whole affair in a haze, and since she sped away so abruptly, she did not hear her mother's short laugh and exclamation.

"Oh, of course, '_stuff_.' How easily I forget these things."

Her sweet smile was short-lived, however, as a cloud of doubt and worry hung over her once again. She was deeply concerned for her daughter, but she could not for the life of her place what was wrong. The ominous feeling had begun to consume her shortly after Téa had gone to bed the night before. Something was _off_,and it didn't spell good for any of them, her especially. Call it a woman's intuition or, even deeper and more precise, a mother's intuition, but somehow Julia Gardner knew that something serious, for better or for worse, was about to befall her daughter and there was nothing she, Julia, could do to prevent it or help her. Pausing in her dishwashing endeavor, she bowed her head in respect, praying to God to grant Téa with the strength and wisdom she would undoubtedly need to overcome her looming adversity.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darting through a crosswalk to the next corner, Téa was focused on dwellings of her own. Quite frankly, she felt…overwhelmed. So much had been happening lately that she didn't know how to sort it all out. With the closing of the Duelist Kingdom tournament, Yugi, Téa, Jonouchi, Honda, and Ryou had all believed that things would quiet down, but what resulted was the exact opposite. Practically the day Sugoroku Mutou, Yugi's grandfather, was released from the hospital, he was accused of stealing a Blue-Eyes White Dragon card and challenged to a duel by the American Duel Monsters Champion, Rebecca Hawkins. Because of Sugoroku's frail condition (losing one's soul for a period of time could do that to a person), Yugi dueled in his place and won, kind of, in a roundabout way and not without some grief.

Around two weeks after that, a rival game shop had appeared with its owner, Ryuji Otogi, causing a "disturbance," as Jonouchi had called it in less eloquent words, at their school. Jonouchi's jealousy had driven him to challenge Otogi to a duel where they put on the line Jonouchi's pride and Otogi's game shop. She had thought it was typical male stupidity and secretly believed that Jonouchi's punishment was befitting: he was forced to wear a dog suit after he lost. But then, Yami had come to his aid and beat Otogi at his own creation, Dungeon Dice Monsters, and regained Jonouchi's honor.

Sure, the events had caused some unnecessary drama and stress, but she would gladly take them a hundred times over than the alternative that had occurred just days afterward. The brunette and her tri-color haired best friend had been walking to school when they were accosted by a fortuneteller in a black robe. They had indulged him since clairvoyants and "supernatural" beings did not usually have much in the way of business in the Domino area. He offered to tell Yugi's fortune by holding an object dear to him. Already, Téa had been able to tell that something about the guy had seemed distinctively…wrong. His voice, while sounding slightly familiar, had sounded as if an underlying voice were speaking in the same tone at the exact instant he was: two voices resonating smoothly from one mouth. It was unsettling, to say the least, but before Téa could say or do anything to warn Yugi, his good-intentioned naiveté had forced him to take leave of his senses: he gave the stranger his Millennium Puzzle, of all things!

Honestly, she had felt like one of those helpless, disbelieving viewers forcing themselves to sit through an old horror movie. No matter how loudly or forcibly she yelled at those way-too-easy-to-kill kids to _not_ go into the "abandoned" shed to see if it had been their friend, Billy, making those ghoulish noises and not, say, a horde of flesh-eating zombies, no good came of it. Always, they still go in there and see that there is no disturbance and decide to celebrate by having a brief, but steamy, make-out session that ends with them becoming decapitated. What she felt, therefore, when the cloaked fiend kicked over the table, effectively blocking easy pursuit as he stole away with Yugi's puzzle, was nothing short of déjà vu…except without anything to do with a make-out session; that would have been too awkward for words.

Matters only worsened when Yugi gave chase to the menace, pleading with her to find Jonouchi and Honda so they could assist with his capture. In desperation, as well as a profound loss of what to do on her part, she complied, and, after briefly running into Ryou, explaining the situation to him, located them (shockingly) already at school. In order to get away, they told a bare-faced lie to one of their coaches, moving him enough that he allowed them to skip class without consequence. As if to taunt them, they discovered that the thief had left signs with pointed arrows leading the way to Yugi's location, but the bastard had arranged them so that their directions made no sense; they ranged from pointing straight down to the ground, directly up towards the heavens, and diagonally across a building. In this confused mess, the three desperate teens wasted time fruitlessly trying to make sense of it all. Fifteen minutes quickly passed into thirty when they finally came across a series of storage houses, one of which that had erupted in flames.

Téa had felt her heart stop at the thought that Yugi was trapped inside, for whatever reason, she knew he was. Without a second's hesitation, she whipped out her cell phone, punched in the number for the fire department and hospital, and in a somewhat shaky voice, rushed to explain their situation. Meanwhile, Honda and Jonouchi had taken it upon themselves to find an entrance into the warehouse, frantic enough were they to risk injury to themselves if it meant saving the life of one of their dearest friends. They displayed this insane passion best when they managed to break the door down and merge themselves into the choking tongues of flame that were rapidly devouring everything in sight.

They had been in there for what felt like a century, but in reality had only been a few long, dreadful minutes, when she heard the sirens resound closer and closer to her position until they finally skidded around the corner to stop some feet from her form. The men and women in uniform took no time to emerge from their vehicles and rush to action, some readying the ambulance beds, others unraveling the gigantic hose that would send tons of unrelenting water pressure onto the building with the intent to forever extinguish the flame.

Truly panicking now, she rushed to the nearest one, a kind-looking man with a brown mustache in a firefighter uniform and informed, or rather screeched at, him that now three of her friends were trapped inside. Wasting no time, he set his jaw, signaling his crew to begin preparations for a record-time rescue when, miraculously, three soot-covered forms emerged from the crumbling stack. The doctors were quick to react but not enough to beat Téa's speed as she sprinted to them, knees almost failing her in both fright and relief.

Hauling the four of them into the emergency vehicle, the doctors sped them away to Domino General Hospital to asses the damage. Jonouchi and Honda were incredibly free from harm and were released to go. Yugi, however, was not so lucky but better off than he could have been. He suffered some minor burns and lung damage from all the smoke he had inhaled and had to stay the night for observation. He wasn't released for two more days before the doctors were satisfied.

In that time, Yugi was able to relate to them what had happened. He had pursued the cloaked man all the way inside the abandoned warehouse where there was a dueling platform set up.

"Like the ones from Duelist Kingdom. Don't ask me how it got there, though," Yugi feebly joked. "As long as Pegasus didn't come with it, it's fine. It's a mystery all by itself, anyway."

It was there, Yugi continued, that the man challenged Yugi to a duel for his Millennium Puzzle, which was chained to a closed hook on the side of the raised platform where a duelist lays his cards on the playing field.

"The connection was so weak, I couldn't communicate with the Other Me at all," he stated, sadly.

"It must be painful," Téa sympathized, "to be torn apart from another part of your soul."

"But, wait," Jonouchi cut in, loudly. "Why'd that creep go through all that trouble to steal your Puzzle and drag us all half way across friggin' Domino just to duel you for it? I mean, why bother? Why not just take it and run?"

"I agree. There's not much sense there for it." Honda concluded.

"I can't be sure," Yugi mused, slowly, "but, maybe, in a weird, twisted way, it had to do with an honor code of some sort. Or, at least, as much honor as one can have after stealing someone's most prized possession."

Moving on to the actual duel itself, Yugi began, "I was doing very well for myself, but it was strange…the monsters he played, machine-types, and the strategies he used were familiar. Improved, but familiar. That's when I knew it, just _who_ I was facing: Bandit Keith."

"Are you serious!?" Jonouchi cried. "What the hell, man!?"

"I can't believe it! I thought we were rid of that scum after Pegasus's tournament," Honda fumed.

Téa remained silent. Wide-eyed, disbelieving, but silent. There was something that didn't make sense here, but before she could express it, Yugi continued with his story.

After he had identified him, Keith removed his hood and showed his face. He told Yugi what happened after Pegasus ejected him from the island. He was tossed about through the waves of the treacherous, tumultuous sea with only a plank of wood to give him hope for survival. Finally, after what seemed like days, a ship sailed near his position and, spotting him, rescued him from the surf. After recovering, he set out for Domino City with the full intent of locating Yugi Mutou and exacting revenge.

Against the odds, Yugi won the duel, but Bandit Keith freaked and, rushing across the dueling platform, grabbed the Millennium Puzzle and smashed it to pieces. When it appeared that he was going to attack Yugi, out of nowhere, Ryou slammed into him, knocking him off the platform.

"Wow. I never would have thought it of Ryou to attack somebody for anything. Well, maybe that psycho spirit in that Ring of his would, but---"

"Wait, wait, wait," Jonouchi cut in from Honda. "How did he find that place before us? How'd he even know, anyway?"

"Oh, in the rush, I forgot to tell you. I ran into him when I was trying to find you two. I just told him the general picture of what happened, though. He must've felt inclined to help us, too. And, it's not really a surprise that he beat us to finding Yugi. He was a lot closer to his actual location than we were at school, and if nothing else, I've noticed he has an amazing sense of direction."

"Oh, you've '_noticed_' him and his directional skills, eh, Téa? Ha-ha. Well, it took you a few years, but it seems you have finally jumped on the estrogen-dominated bandwagon of Ryou Bakura. Careful, though, Té, I hear the competition is _fierce,_" Honda laughed, outright delighted for the opportunity to tease their boy-awkward friend.

"Alright, first of all, Hiroto Honda," Téa strained, teeth-clenched as she tried to ignore the heat rising to her face. "Ryou and I are friends, _just_ friends, and as one friend to another, it's usually _nice_ and _expected_ to notice any good trait about them and praise them for it. Second of all, if you honestly think I'm the type of girl that would sell her soul to become a part of that ridiculous fan club of his, constantly hound him throughout the day to get his attention, like some two-bit floozy, and build a shrine in his honor, well, that really doesn't speak highly of your opinion of me! Third of all---"

"Okay, okay! I get your point! I'm sorry, I was just playing! Hones--"

"Wait a minute," Jonouchi interrupted. "What did you mean by 'estrogen-dominated bandwagon'? What, you don't mean that boys are pining after him, too?"

"Ha-ha. Well, of course they are, Jo. He's an okay guy, don't get me wrong, but you have to admit, he's a little effeminate-looking."

"Seriously?"

"Mm-hm."

"…Gross."

"Can we please get back to the story?" Yugi cried, thoroughly embarrassed, both at how they were addressing his friend and the jab Honda had teased Téa with.

"Oh, right, sorry Yugi. That's my fault."

"Right."

Finally getting back on track, Yugi relayed that Ryou helped him find the scattered pieces of his puzzle and, thinking all was well, left him alone just moments before the fire started. By that time Keith had regained his bearings and, in a rage, swung around a metal pipe at what seemed to be an invisible enemy, starting the fire by shattering the circuit breakers and wires into various barrels of oil.

"So, that explains the fire. It takes a special person like Keith to do something like that just because they lost a card game," Honda mused.

"God, is the guy a complete moron?" Jonouchi, ever the eloquent one.

"But then, I guess, in the end, he caused his own destruction," Téa said, softly. "Can you imagine? Burning yourself alive? How terrible."

"What're you talking about, Téa? The bastard made it out."

"What?"

"Yeah, he ran right past us when Jonouchi and I broke down the door. Hm. So, now, we can add 'coward' to his Most-Coveted Traits list, huh?"

"Really? I didn't even notice him come out…You don't think he'll come back and try this kind of thing again, do you?"

"I doubt it, Téa." Yugi smiled. "It's just a feeling, but I think we've seen the last of Bandit Keith."

"Which is good for him!" Jonouchi growled. "'Cuz, if I ever see that son of a bitch, I'll tear 'em limb from limb because of the crap he's put us through!"

"I guess that's supposed to comfort us, eh, Jo?"

"Damn straight!"

"Now, now, Jonouchi. I'm fine, really. You don't have to resort to violence on my account."

"Oh, don't waste your breath on him, Yugi. He's just itching to fight someone since he can't muster up the courage to ask out a certain voluptuous blonde duelist."

"Yeah, that's ri---What!? Honda! Wha-? You---bastard! Get over here! I'll tear _you_ limb from limb! When'd you learn such big vocabulary words, anyway?"

Téa joined in the laughter with the others, but it was half-hearted. Fortunately, they were all having too much of a good time to notice. She just couldn't shake that feeling that Yugi wasn't telling them the whole story. It's not that he lied to them, no, Téa believed that all he said was the absolute truth; there were just a lot of holes he wasn't feeling in, like… why Bandit Keith? Why did he choose Yugi for revenge and not Jonouchi or Pegasus, the ones who had actually dealt him shame? How'd he even know about the Millennium Puzzle in the first place? As far as he should know, it is just an ordinary gold pendant, for the knowledge of the Items' powers were only known to the users and the ones closest to them. None of it made sense. _I wonder if Ryou could tell me anything different_, she had thought. It seemed, however, that Yugi had let it go and no one else suspected anything, so she decided to drop the subject in the hopes that her suspicions would fade with time. It didn't and it hadn't, especially not after what had occurred at the Domino City museum about a week ago.

The location in question had recently become the host of the illustrious Ancient Egyptian Exhibit. During Téa and Yami's, um, get-together, er, outing, uh, oh, _fine_, date (_embarrassing…_), they had decided to explore it in the hopes that Yami would remember something, _anything_, about his past life in Egypt. As they had walked through the doors, Téa had felt so optimistic that at least one or two mysteries about Yami would be solved (he had seemed so melancholy lately) that she was crushingly disappointed when there was nothing, literally nothing, about him anywhere. Nothing they saw triggered anything for him, and if she felt crushed, there was no knowing the pain and bleakness he was experiencing; it was like he never existed. They were about to turn back when Yami noticed a roped off door leading down into the basement of the museum. _Get those make-out, perverted thoughts out of your head, girl!_ With a glance at her, telling her to follow, he proceeded as if pulled by an invisible force down the stairs and into the vast room below.

What greeted them was nothing short of shocking: a giant stone slab depicting hieroglyphics and Duel Monster-akin creatures with a young Pharaoh facing his opponent, looking uncannily like Yami if the hair was anything to go by with the Millennium Puzzle draped around his neck. She wasn't unobservant, but it was hard not to notice that the opponent also resembled, not someone close to her but someone she knew in passing, Seto Kaiba.

"I know who I am now," Yami had declared.

He took it much better than she had. Of course, when one finds out that one's best friend just happens to be a royal who's had their soul trapped in a golden, magical artifact for over three-thousand years, it can be a little hard to swallow in just one sitting. And that was when _she_ appeared: Ishizu Ishtar, the mysterious woman in possession of the Millennium Necklace, the Item that can see the future. It was her message that unsettled Tea and has continued to do so ever since it was spoken. After introducing herself and her Item's power, she stated in unquestionable certainty that Yami had chosen the destiny of battle, and if he wanted to reclaim his memories, he would have to gather all seven of the Millennium Items. Assuaging their suspicions, she promised that she was not their enemy but could see that whoever was could wield the powers of the last Millennium Item. That battle would lead to his memories. Her parting words urged them to go to the city plaza to discover more.

"The rest is for you to find out," the ebony-haired Egyptian threw behind her as she walked out.

And lo and behold, greeting them at their destination was a horde of duelists, including the familiar faces of Mai Kujaku, Insector Haga, Dinosaur Ryuzaki, and Ryota Kajiki, who told them that they were hinted to come to Domino City after finding a strange riddle about where a new tournament would be hosted. All of this was confirmed when Seto Kaiba, in true dramatic fashion, descended among the crowd in a helicopter to proclaim to the entire city all the details and rules about the new tournament that would be held in a week.

As she rounded the last corner to the game shop and Yugi's house, she rested her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath and conceded; the board has been set and the pieces are moving. There wasn't anything she could do that could stop her foreboding feelings or the dangers associated with them, the dangers they would each soon face. She looked up from the street she had been staring unfocusedly at when she heard Yugi call her name and, straightening up, forced a smile on her face as they greeted each other. Seeing his face reminded her of what Yami had asked of her before the tournament was announced.

"Yugi doesn't know that we went to the exhibit today," he had said. "Please, don't tell him about what we saw and heard there. I don't want to worry him."

And not for the first time, Tea wondered if she was doing the right thing in saying nothing. Nothing about her suspicions and doubts with the Bandit Keith situation. Nothing about how Duel Monsters and Ancient Egyptians were connected. Nothing about the last Millennium Item and its wielder. Nothing about her dream and how she knew it wouldn't be the last time she would see those eyes again. No, nothing at all…

**A/N: Please review! Please? No? Oh, come on! I've gotten over fifty hits already, so are you honestly going to tell me that you can't review? _Well_**... **If _that's_ your attitude, I may just hold the next chapter hostage. MWAHAHAHAHA! Eh, we'll see...**


	3. Ch 3: Battle

**A/N: Aaaaaaand, here is chapter three! It's a lot longer from my original draft of it, double it's original length, in fact, and the longest chapter to date for this story. Hooray! I'm really proud of it. The reason for the length is because of how I wanted to end it. I really didn't want to extend it into a fourth chapter... That would have been, well, crap. That, and I really want to leave behind Battle City for a while and move to the main part of the story.**

**Once again, a huge shout out and thank you to Merciless Ruby and PrincessOfHeartsNYP for reviewing. Marik and Bakura plushies for the both of you! *tosses* ....Oh, didn't get them? Sorry, bad throw. Maybe next time.**

**Disclaimer: Me no ownie Yu-gi-oh! Nope... nadda. I don't own Yu-gi-oh: The Abridged Series, either. That jewel belongs to the genius LittleKuriboh. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist adding a few subtle nuances from it (what YGO author who has seen that show can?) into the story. Let's play a game to see who can pick them out first, k?**

**IMPORTANT: I'm not sure when or where I'm going to need them, but if anyone knows how to write a Yu-gi-oh duel, especially how they duelled in Ancient Egypt and Battle City, then I DESPERATELY NEED YOUR HELP! I've lost touch with a lot of the subtleties and strategy of it, have barely any knowledge of what cards are in whose deck, and just have a general feeling that if I wrote one, it would be crap. Plain and simple. If you know anyone that can help or can write them yourself, please PM me when you can. I'll be sure to let you know well in advance when I need one and what it should generally involve. You can also be assured that full credit of the duel will go to you.**

**Now on with the story!**

**

* * *

  
**

Chapter 3: Battle

The students were a lot more geared up today than usual. Ever since that bloody tournament, the infamous Battle City in his mind, was announced, it was harder than ever to get them to just sit down, _shut up_, and ---WILL YOU _PLEASE_ GET _OFF_ THE DESK AND JUST _LEARN_, MR. JONOUCHI!? Ugh! Retirement was calling more than ever now, and not for the first time, Mr. Niwa, English teacher for the energy-misplaced dunderheads of Class 2A, wondered why school was even called in session today if no one was paying attention. He would know; he hadn't taught a lesson all day if one doesn't count his failed attempt at discussing Romanticism and its riveting structure and most influential poets during first period to a class where, if the students weren't sleeping, they were having contests of "well, my deck's better than your deck!" and "well, my deck's bigger than _your_ deck!" Unbelievable. Leaning back in his chair, he sent one last withering glare at the boy who had caused all this mayhem, Seto Kaiba, ironically the calmest person in the room right now despite it being _his_ scheme that had reduced this institution of learning into an institution of get-me-the-hell-out-of-here-before-I-kill-everyone-in-the-building-in-order-to-shut-the-voices-up!

He dejectedly rolled his head over to look at the clock that had been stuck on 3:25 for what seemed like the last hour. How can five minutes pass so slowly anyway? What is it about the concept of time that makes an event go by at a snail's pace when you want it to flash by? Hey, wait a second… Actually, don't. Please keep going, Time, it was a figure of speech! But, he still gets paid today even though he did nothing, right? Of course, they don't _have_ to know that he did nothing. Technically, he taught first period a lot better than some of these other sad excuses for teachers did on a daily basis to all their classes. Oh, the day just looked so much brighter. He might actually give those kids their cards back, and---YES! 3:26!

In this manner, the pitiful musings of the brilliant but underpaid head of the English department, Mr. Niwa, continued for the next four minutes when, miraculously, the please-students-get-out-we've-had-enough-of-you bell rang, ending the school day. And for the first time in Domino High history, a teacher fled out of his classroom, through the front doors, and made it into his car to speed away into the horizon well before his own class could marvel at how he managed a Houdini, if they even cared or noticed at all.

* * *

"Man! I can't believe how long that lasted! I'm ready to get out of here and get this tournament underway!" Jonouchi cried as the group gathered around their lockers to dispose of all their books. What were they going to do with those when they could play card games was Jonouchi's logic.

"I just can't believe that Kaiba convinced the school system to call a skip day for all the students for the tournament tomorrow," Téa replied. "Or, rather, I can't believe they agreed to it."

"Well, there aren't many forces out there that want to stand between boy billionaires and their card games," Honda laughed. "Well, his fan club might, but that's beside the point. I heard that because so many other students from other districts have registered for the tournament that many of the surrounding school systems have closed, too."

"Yeah, this must be what it's like for Americans on Saturdays! No school is the best policy ever! For once, I respect Kaiba as a human being, I will admit." Jonouchi grinned.

"Just how many people are in this thing, anyway?" Téa wondered aloud.

"It's a big city," Yugi commented. "But, you're right. I don't think it's open to the whole world to enter. It could be first come, first served for registering. Good business for the tourist attractions, though. Maybe Grandpa will get more customers in his stor---"

"Wah! Seriously!?" Jonouchi panicked. "Well, what are we still standing around here for? C'mon! Let's go register before everyone and their grandmother beats us to it!" He sped off out the door, leaving the group and his book bag behind. Sighing, Téa picked it up, saying that she'd carry it (it was empty, anyways), and that they'd better hurry after him in case they had to stop him from running into traffic. After catching up to him, they briskly made their way to the registration center, where Jonouchi bounded through the door, declaring that the Duelist Champion Extraordinaire had arrived. When everyone in the store began looking around for Yugi and Kaiba, Jonouchi almost blew a gasket before Honda interceded. It was then that Yugi drew her aside from the crowd to talk.

"Are you alright? You've seemed a bit down lately like there's something weighing on your mind."

_If you only knew, Yugi…_

"Oh, it's nothing, really," she lied more than a little guiltily. "Just a lot of things have been going on lately. It's hard to keep up sometimes." She tried to laugh it off but, even to her, it sounded fake. She hoped he wouldn't notice. Whether she told him or not, she decided, it wouldn't help anything. At this point, the apprehension of waiting for something she couldn't escape to happen was the worst feeling she was contending with at the moment, and if she could spare her best friend from that, she would. She was worried and afraid, though, afraid that, by the time whatever would happen happened, she would be too tired and drained to fight it. "I guess I'm just a little apprehensive about this tournament because of our history with the last one we were a part of. But, don't worry, I'm probably just over thinking things. I do that…when it involves the people I care about," she conceded, blushing slightly and looking away.

"O-oh," Yugi replied, blushing also. "Well, uh, alright. If you say so. I understand, and, um, thanks for the concern."

She was about to reply when the loud voice of her blonde best friend interrupted, well, _everyone _else's business in the room.

"Wha'd'ya mean, 'I can't register'? I was the runner-up in the last tournament!"

"Please, sir, I'm only following orders---"

"_Whose_ orders?"

"Why, the tournament's head, Mr. Kaiba, of course."

"_Kaiba!_ Dammit! It figures! I take back what I said before; there is no respect for Seto Kaiba whatsoever! He is the fly in my soup, the eyelash in my eye, the scum between my toes, the---!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Jonouchi, what's wrong?" Yugi inquired as he and Téa finally made it to the front counter where the unfortunate clerk was trying to face down some unchecked Brooklyn Rage.

"Kaiba-bastard has apparently told all his little goonies that I, Katsuya Jonouchi, cannot enter this tournament because my name is Katsuya Jonouchi! That is profiling, sir, and profiling is wrong!"

"But, no, look here," the clerk pleaded, before turning the computer monitor around so they could all see the statistics on the screen. "In order to stop just anyone from entering the tournament, and thus preventing a severe overflow of people from pouring into the city as they probably would, Mr. Kaiba and his company have personally gone through the stats of every eligible duelist in the world and have given each a ranking one through eight. Only the best will be allowed to compete and be granted a Duel Disk. Your ranking," he directed toward Jonouchi, "Level Two, is, unfortunately, not qualified for the tournament…" He drifted off, spinning the monitor back around before having a peculiar expression on his face that was gone so quickly, Téa wondered if she imagined it. "So, for that reason---oh! Wait a second." He turned back to the computer, a confused expression on his face, typing a few commands into the computer before shrugging and turning back to Jonouchi. "I'm sorry. It appears that my computer was malfunctioning before. It seems that you are in fact eligible to participate in this tournament."

"Really!? Let me see!" Jonouchi exclaimed, turning the screen around once more to find his ranking at Level Five. "I can compete, Yug!"

Yugi smiled, glad for his friend, and turned to the clerk to give him his name and was slightly stunned that Kaiba had granted him the highest ranking of Level Eight.

"Congratulations to the both of you," the man said. "It should also be noted that all those ranked Level Five and above receive a Duel Disk free of charge, so…" And he produced two Duel Disks from the dwindling stack behind him and presented them to the two duelists, one of which snatched it up greedily, beside himself with glee, while the other accepted it with a much more polite "thank you" and a grin. "I wish you both the best of luck, boys," he said as the teens made their way out of the store. Once they were gone, leaving the shop empty for all save him, his benevolent features twisted into a sly smirk as he produced a cell phone to speed dial his master. They had a Red Eyes Black Dragon to hunt.

* * *

It was amazing how Téa hadn't noticed how the air around Domino City was buzzing with anticipation before Yugi and Jonouchi received their Duel Disks, but the excitement of the upcoming event quickly became apparent after watching the antics of her two best friends for the following hours. Yugi couldn't help but keep a wide grin on his face, and from time to time, Téa could see the faint gleam of challenge and confidence in his dark, purple eyes, the indication that Yami was enthusiastic as well. Jonouchi, meanwhile, was becoming more and more animated with his emotions as the hours wore on, even going so far as to attempt to bull rush another Duel Disk carrier to "gather information and find out if he's as excited as I am, because he should be!" before Honda dragged him away. He was easily able to distract Jonouchi from noticing any other certified duelist by refocusing his attention on his second favorite subject: food of all shapes, sizes, and flavors.

Téa was feeling similar bouts of happiness, glad to see her friends so peaceful and carefree. It calmed and relieved her like no other thing had these past couple of weeks; in fact, she hadn't thought about her current nightmare since Yugi had questioned her earlier.

It had been several hours since the boys had registered for the tournament, and the group had decided to visit some of their most favorite hang-outs in the city that they hadn't been to in awhile. Naturally, many of their fellow classmates were there, some even being registered duelists themselves, to which Jonouchi was quick to pounce on. When night had begun to fall, it was a collective agreement to end the day at the arcade located just minutes from each of their respective houses. Jonouchi and Honda competed in their favorite shooting game before teaming up against two other boys for _Street Fighter_. Téa and Yugi amused themselves with anything with flashing lights, earning themselves many laughs along the way. Finally, Téa returned from an intense round of _DDR _to collapse tiredly into the booth the boys were able to grab before anymore else after another group had left, taking a long draught on her Mountain Dew drink.

"Man, and I thought Hard Mode lived up to its name, but Expert's a beast!" she exclaimed. She looked up, confused at Jonouchi's sulking expression. Throwing an inquisitive glance at Honda, he grinned quickly before disguising it as a gesture to help clear his throat so as not to offend the blonde anymore than he was already prepared to do.

"I'm afraid Jonouchi saw that you could win a disco ball by getting enough tickets about an hour after we got here. So, of course, he's been trying ever since to do all he can to get it but…_sadly_, hasn't been very successful," the spiky-haired brunette finished, mock mournfully.

"Oh, I see," Téa said, looking back over at Jonouchi who was resting his head on his crossed arms laying on the table, glaring at his chocolate milkshake like it was the cause of all his worldly suffering. "How many tickets does it take to get it?"

"Eight-thousand."

"And how many did he get?"

"Not even three hundred."

"Ah, right…" Téa grimaced. _Epic fail, indeed_. "Jonouchi, why don't you just buy it if you want it so badly?"

"C'mon, Té. That's practically cheating."

"No, it's being realistic. By the time it's all said and done, you'll probably pay double the amount in tickets than you would just buying the thing."

"Arithmetic is for losers, Téa."

"Well, technically, it's economics, but I guess that's why I'm passing both and you're failing with flying colors, huh?" She laughed.

"Oh, shut up!" Jonouchi yelled as Honda and Yugi joined in on Téa's laughter. "Why do I hang out with you jerks, anyway?"

"You know you love us, Jo," teased Honda.

"Oh, yeah, wouldn't want you _any_ other way," Jonouchi said sarcastically. "Jerk."

"Hmm… you mean, you _want_ me, Jonouchi?" Honda wiggled his brows suggestively. "I never would have thought you'd go for _that_ type of action. Personally, I don't think you could handle me."

"Honda," Jonouchi began, all seriousness. "You. Are. An. _Asshole!_"

Honda, Téa, and Yugi, who had all already been laughing before, erupted into renewed bouts of hilarity, Honda even go so far as to bang the table with his fist a few times. It didn't take much for Jonouchi to be seized by chuckles of mirth as well, knowing their teasing of each other were all in good fun.

"Hey, ha-ha, um, Jonouchi," began Yugi, once he had calmed down enough to speak. "It's getting kind of late. Aren't you supposed to go to Domino General tonight for your sister's eye operation? The pre-op?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah," sighed Jonouchi, "but it's alright. I've got plenty of time. Don't have to be there till eight."

"Jonouchi," said Téa, glancing at the time on her cell phone, "it's 7:32 now and Domino General's---"

"Over twenty blocks away! Oh, crap!" exclaimed the blonde, springing from his chair as if it suddenly burned him. The others quickly grabbed their drinks, disposing of their trash, and raced after him to the front entrance.

"You sure you'll be alright going by yourself this late and on foot no less?" asked Téa concerned, as the group stepped out into the cold night air.

Jonouchi laughed. "I know I may not be a bully anymore, Téa, but I haven't lost my fighting ability. The nightly weirdoes here don't scare me. I'll be fine so don't worry. Besides, I'll have to run all the way there just to make it in time, and there's no sense in putting you guys through that."

"Alright, then," nodded Honda. "We'll walk to Yugi's place, and then, Téa, I'll take you home." After Téa and Yugi's nod of confirmation, Honda addressed Jonouchi, "Call us if you need anything, alright?"

"Will do. See you tomorrow. And Yugi, me and you, pal. Tournament's ON!" the blonde yelled as he sped away in the opposite direction, tucking his Duel Disk securely under his arm.

"Really, I wonder how much trouble he could possible get into from here to the hospital," mused Téa, watching as Jonouchi nearly bulldozed an elderly couple casually making their way out of a sidewalk convenience store.

"Have you met this guy?" joked Yugi as they began their own trek to his house.

Perhaps the young adults wouldn't have been so ridiculing of their good friend if they'd have known just how much danger he'd be in before the night was out.

* * *

That night, the dreams came again. Any lightness of mind or tranquility Téa had gathered throughout the day was rapidly lost and replaced with an even heavier burden of dread than she had yet to experience. The more she dreamed, the more real it all seemed: his cruel laughter, the bloodthirsty glow in his eyes, the unbreakable strength and contrasting warmth of his arms, and all the blood…

Multiple times in the night, she would abruptly jerk awake, either finding herself crying or in a cold sweat, sometimes both. Each time she did so, she tried to lay back down and calm her racing heart and slow her breathing by watching her digital clock, the only source of light in the room. However, every instance she finally found sleep again, the dream would either begin anew or start back where it left off, sometimes throwing in more brutal scenes of violence that hadn't been present in her original dream.

After what seemed like the thousandth time, the brunette was lying awake once more, staring in blatant disbelief at her clock that was offensively burning 1:57 A.M. into her eyes. Finally getting sick of it all, she huffed as she threw the covers off of her, moving to stand on her plush carpet. Normally the cool, soft carpet would comfort her, but now, she was too irritated to care much less even notice it.

Quietly so as to not disturb anyone else in the house, Téa opened her bedroom door slowly then slipped through the opening to be guided downstairs by the dim hallway light. She hoped some good channel surfing would clear her head and make her so tired that her brain wouldn't be able to even think about dreaming. As she came to the bottom of the stairwell, turning into the area of the living room, her ocean blue eyes widened in surprise, finding that her mother had already beaten her to it.

"Mom?" she whispered quizzically. "What are you doing up?"

"The same reason as you, I imagine," Julia Gardner smiled tiredly but knowingly. "Come here, dear. Sit with me." Patting the seat on the sofa beside her, it was all the invitation Téa needed to seek shelter in the presence of her mother, like she used to do as a little girl.

As her daughter curled up against her side, resting her head on her shoulder, Julia asked, "What is bothering you, love?"

"Hmm, you first."

"Alright," smiled Julia while she began to comfortingly stroke her daughter's hair with the arm that was wrapped around her shoulders. "I've been feeling very anxious lately. There's someone really close to me, in fact she's the most important person in the world to me, whom I'm really worried about. She seems to be struggling with something that, for whatever reason, she won't let me help her deal with. But, I'm also afraid that, if she does tell me what is wrong, that there will be nothing I can do to help her anyway."

"Anyone I know?" said Téa, playing along.

"Why, yes, I think you know her very well. Do you want to talk about it now?" questioned Julia, dropping the pretenses.

Did she? Did she really want to burden her mom with something like this? _Although, it looks like I've already kept her up for _not _telling her_, she thought, regretfully. Would she even believe that this was much more than a dream, as Téa did, or just some nightmarish fantasy she let herself be taken in by? Titling her head up, Téa stared into her mother's equally sapphire eyes to see only deep love, compassion, and an ardent desire to simply understand her daughter. Without realizing it, her walls shattered and she was talking about _everything_, everything that had been going on for the last several weeks. They were having, as mother and daughter fondly called it, a Come-to-Jesus meeting.

"So, you see why I'm so _ragged_ right now," Téa finished, breathless from all her talking. Her explanation had been more emotional than normal but no tears had fallen. She had cried enough in her sleep, she felt. Besides, she was too drained to waste her remaining energy on tears.

"I see all these things, these…_coincidences_, and I can't help but think that they're not coincidences at all. That everything is connected. And now that these dreams have come, my suspicions only appear to be confirmed…"

"You say these dreams, no, these visions started last night? They're still continuing?"

Téa nodded. "What do you think it means?"

"I believe," Julia started slowly, thoughtfully, "that everything happens for a reason, Téa. If these dreams keep occurring, which all signs point to being the case until the actions behind them are put into motion, then you need to take them for what they are: a warning. You'll need to be careful in the future, dear, and I think it would be wise to let your friends know about this, too."

"I know. I've thought about it, but," Téa hesitated, troubled, "is this really something I need to dump on them now?"

"I could think of no better time to do so. If what you suspect is true, then it involves all of them, even that Mai Kujaku that Jonouchi is so fond of. Whoever this man is in your nightmares, he's their enemy, too. You may be making them even more vulnerable by keeping this information from them. It's hard fighting a foe you know nothing about. Just something to consider."

Téa nodded, taking it all in before snickering slightly. "You sound like a general with all your talk of fighting an enemy and how to best prepare ourselves."

Julia chuckled lightly. "Well, you know how much I enjoy my epic war movies like _Lord of the Rings_ and_ Troy. _Stuff like _Flyboys_ and _We Were Soldiers_ aren't bad, either. But, you know, dear, tactics don't win wars; strategy does."

"Definitely not the conventional mother," noticed Téa who, after seeing her mom's raised eyebrow, hurried to stipulate. "Well, it's just that, you're telling me to start readying myself for a fight, to be mindful of the future. Shouldn't you be like those overprotective mothers who confine their daughters to their rooms whenever something too dangerous comes along as a means to protect them?"

"What? Like locking them in the highest room in the tallest tower?" Julia referenced from _Shrek_. "No chance, love. I'm letting you make your own decisions in this _because_ I love you and think that it's the best path for you. Sure, as a mother, I have tried to protect you as best I could since you were born, but you're almost an adult yourself now and there are fine lines between sheltering and crippling. Besides, you're _my_ daughter and I _know_ you're strong. I can't hide you from the world forever, and I pity the child whose mother tries to do so for them. There comes a time when you have to stop protecting them and let them experience the world around them; it makes them strong. The longer you put it off, the more disadvantaged the child would be, less adaptable. When you're a mother yourself, you'll know what I'm talking about, _but_, Téa Gardner, that better not be any time soon, _got it?_" Julia stated sternly. "Or else I _will_ lock you up in your room for the rest of your miserable life."

"Right, Mom! Of course!" squeaked Téa, not doubting her threat for an instant. "You know I fear your wrath too much to even attempt something like that."

"Hmm, well, good. Just making sure, dear."

Téa laughed quietly to herself before reaching up to hug her mom tightly. "Thanks, Mom. You've helped me so much. I never know why I don't come to you earlier with things like this." Giving her a goodnight kiss, Téa turned to weave her way to the staircase. Stopping with her hand on the wood of the open doorway, she looked back at her mom, giving her one more smile of gratitude. "And I'll definitely think about what you said. I think… yes… I think I will tell them all tomorrow."

Exchanging goodnights, Téa returned to her room, exhausted, with all the intentions of sleeping peacefully. However, misery lays off for no one, and the nightmares continued only differently. Sometimes in black and white or as if through a fog, other times like a silent picture with no subtitles. Even so, this was preferable to the alternative and left no more doubts in her mind that these premonitions were real and that something, or someone, dangerous was just out of recognition.

* * *

In a small game shop located just out of the bustling city of Domino, there was another teenager who couldn't find sleep. However, Yugi Mutou's reasons for defying the notion of rest thankfully didn't involve any kinds of grim premonitions of the future nor any images of violent deaths involving the ones he cared for the most. Instead, he was rifling through his Duel Monster's deck one final time, the smoothness of the cards a reassurance to him, as he mentally went through the soundness of he and Yami's strategies and the purpose of each individual card. It was the first deck they had ever compiled together, and as Yugi held it in his hands, he felt power and unity radiate from it, thrumming forth as if the only thing keeping the cards from coming alive was the paper and plastic that bound them.

Yami, the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle and the darker half of Yugi's soul, sat calmly at the end of Yugi's bed, visible only to his eyes in his transparent form, and was musing over conflicts of his own.

Yugi still had no clear idea of why Yami was entering this tournament in the first place. Granted, he knew it was for a much greater purpose than gaining more powerful cards and prize money, for as they were two halves of the same soul, they could rarely hide things from each other. The true meaning, though, of Yami's insistence to enter Battle City he had locked far away inside the depths of his labyrinthine soul room. He had thought he could wait to tell Yugi the truth until he knew for sure whether there was hope in finding a trace of evidence that would lead to the forgotten memories of his past, but the more he thought of it, the more the young pharaoh was assaulted by waves of guilt and shame.

It felt as if he were betraying his light by keeping such a secret from him, a secret that held such grave importance for them both. But now, Yami felt as unsure about the future as he constantly felt about the past and simultaneously felt that he had no right to drag Yugi into his own problems while also feeling that he owed it to Yugi to tell him everything because of their close relationship. A catch-22 if there ever was one.

He knew that danger awaited them as soon as they would step into that city tomorrow. As the tournament had drawn near, shady reports had come in of suspicious characters and violent dealings concerning with the tournament and its participants. Reports of stolen cards, duel disks, and locator cards had flooded the local papers, and card thieves were rumored to be making their way to the greatest job prospect they'd ever had before. An organized underground crime ring calling themselves the Ghouls had apparently been suspected of sending their Rare Hunter division to the tournament to ambush duelists for all that they're worth, a warning of which was sent out by Kaiba Corp a few days before. Instead of deterring duelists, however, Kaiba had practically ensured that the turnout for tomorrow would be higher than ever believed before since he made it sound far less like a tribulation and more like a challenge of strength and endurance. No person who prided themselves as a Duelist would back away from a test like that. No doubt that method of persuasion was why Kaiba had flourished so early as a CEO in the first place.

With all this excitement and supposition about the tournament and its outcome, Yami didn't want to needlessly worry Yugi over his own motives nor did he want to put a damper on his spirits, for if the finding of his memories meant the fate that Yami predicted it would, it would mean that they would eventually be separated far sooner than either of them had expected.

While Yugi could not directly sense his darker side's thoughts, for they were being carefully hidden from him at the moment, he was able to pick up clearly Yami's stricken feelings and decided to stop his flow of thought before he drowned himself in them. There was no doubt in Yugi's mind that it involved him somewhere in all the chaos.

"I don't know exactly what you're thinking over there," he said gently, not looking up from his cards, "but I know that it involves me, Yami. I won't pry until you're ready to tell me, but before you are, there's no sense stressing yourself out over it, so relax for a bit. It's alright, you know. I'm not offended that you won't tell me. I know I'll find out eventually."

Yami smiled, glad for the interruption as well as Yugi's patience with him.

"Thank you, Yugi. You always know just what to say to pull me out of whatever somber mood I force myself into."

"Couldn't have anything to do with us sharing a mind, body, and soul, could it?"

"Oh, no, I don't think so. Such a thing is proven to be scientifically impossible and only the fantasies of the occult," grinned Yami, reflecting on a lesson in Yugi's psychology class he had listened in on. "You must be only the product of a disorganized mind suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder and just happened to pop in during a conversation to myself."

"So, wait, _you're_ the true me, and _I'm _just some splintered off trait of your personality in a separate, fully functioning form?"

"Well, not quite. I'm still the dominate personality here."

"Since when?"

"Since always."

"Just can't stand it if you're not on top, can you?"

""Well, now that you mention it…" trailed off Yami, smirking suggestively.

"Way too much information for me, Yami."

"I'm sorry, Yugi, but I couldn't just let that one go. You should be thankful. I've been behaving myself very well lately, especially when we've been around T---"

"Alright, so!" cut off Yugi, wanting to avoid that subject altogether. "Are you going to tell me at least the gist of what you were thinking of before, or am I going to have to force you to play _Lost_ with me again?"

Yami, who wasn't going to allow Yugi to steer the conversation away from his childhood infatuation, suddenly blanched---if even possible for a transparent spirit---and refocused his attentions on trying to dissuade Yugi from using his newest method of torture---er, _persuasion_, on him. "Oh, Ra, please! Anything but that, Yugi! I mean, I thought _Monopoly_ was torture after four hours of playing, but that _Lost_ board game made me want to commit suicide…and I'm already dead! Please don't make me do that again!"

"Well, then, what were you thinking of?"

"Oh, well played, Yugi," Yami grumbled out. "I suppose you are my other half after all. Sometimes, I wonder…" He stopped for a moment, thinking up the best answer to appease Yugi but still not give away too much before replying, "I was thinking about the past… and of the future."

"This is the present, though, Yami. The past is only something we can learn from, the future only something to look forward to. The latter doesn't even really exist, once you think about it. It will always be out of our reach and understanding. Isn't it time that you lived for the moment, friend? At least for now, anyway."

Yami smiled. "I suppose that would be the best thing to do right now, but we at least still need to be a little mindful of what lies ahead. Even so… I'm sure Jonouchi will never forgive me if I don't come tomorrow with my head in the game." He stopped to consider Yugi for a moment as deep, piercing, crimson-tinted purple met innocent violet. The shadows that fell on their faces and around the room contributed a sense of sharpness to the scene as the result of a lone black desk lap casting a small light throughout the room. "I'm sorry," he finished sincerely, "if I've been worrying you lately. It was not my intention."

"It hasn't _really_ bothered me," began Yugi thoughtfully, "but I couldn't help but notice that you've been acting very strange lately. Around the same time you went out with Téa, actually. You're not still mad that I tricked you into that, are you?"

Yami gave a brief chuckle. "I was never angry with you, just a little surprised. You said that it was for my benefit, and as it turned out, you were right. The experience was _very_ enlightening." Yami stopped his speech abruptly as Yugi fixed him with a sudden suspicious, dark glare, a look rarely seen on his light's face. It was then that the poor Egyptian realized something very important.

_Yugi doesn't know just _what_ Téa and I did on our date. The whole reason I haven't told him anything is because of what we discovered at the Ancient Egypt Exhibit, and I haven't bothered to go into specifics about anything else. So, now, there's no telling what _exactly_ he's thinking that we did do, and my last statement could be taken as a little crude, to say the least. Does… does he possibly think that I made a move on her? That I---that we---oh, shit!_

"_What_, pray tell, was so _enlightening_, Yami," Yugi nearly growled out.

_Oh, _shit!

"Yugi, I doubt that what you're thinking is anything close to what actually happen---"

"What? Do you honestly think that just because I'm your lighter side that I don't know what two teenagers with an _obvious_ attraction do when they're alone together? _I'm_ a teenager too, remember?"

"Yugi! What are you talking about?" Yami said, heat beginning to rise to his face. _And what did he mean by 'obvious'?_

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Yami! What did you and Téa do?"

"_Nothing!_"

"Yeah, _right_, nothing!"

"It's the truth! And may I put in, it was _you_ who set me up with her in the first place. All we did was talk. It was all very innocent, I swear!"

"You don't even know what innocent means!"

Yami barely held back throwing his hands up in frustration even though later he knew he would find the whole thing to be very amusing. "Alright, jealousy is _definitely_ a trait we need to add to the what-turns-Yugi-into-a-psycho-and-ways-to-avoid-it list."

"_I am not jealous!_"

"Then why are you yelling at me? And why won't you believe me?"

Before Yugi could reply, a booming voice sounded from a room two doors down from Yugi's own, piercing through the walls with its intensity.

"YUGI! If you and that crazy spirit of yours do not _shut up _and get some sleep, I will _throw_ you out of this house! Now, _shut it!_"

A long pause permeated the room before Yami let out a short laugh. He knew that Yugi's grandfather couldn't hear him while he was a spirit, but it didn't take a genius to figure out just who his grandson was talking to. After all, he wasn't exactly the type that held conversations with inanimate objects as a means of expressing his feelings.

"You know, it's been awhile since I've heard your grandpa yell like that. Better get into bed, boy, or you'll be in trouble." Yami grinned smugly, adding a sing-songy, mocking note on the word 'trouble.'

"This isn't over!" Yugi hissed.

Yami smirked, before vanishing from the visible world, fading out of space and time as if made of thin, dark tendrils of smoke. Yugi could make out faint, dark chuckles of mirth that didn't belong to him from within his mind, a sign that Yami had retreated into his soul room.

He waited a moment before letting his false act drop. Giving a small smirk of his own, Yugi briefly congratulated himself on his accomplishment. He knew better than to suspect Yami of having some sort of intricate love affair with Téa, but what better way was there to distract the preoccupied Egyptian from his melancholy dwellings than with something…ridiculous?

_Mission: complete._

* * *

When Téa's cell phone went off in the early morning light, she was less than a little pleased. Downright pissed would be closer to the truth. She had finally managed that strange dream state where you find yourself asleep but are still vaguely aware of your surroundings in the world of reality. Like most people, while her body found rest in this condition, her mind and soul decidedly did not, leaving her to feel even more tired as a result. Therefore, when she finally felt herself slipping off into the true realm of dreams, losing all strand of conscious thought, she felt thoroughly justified in murdering whoever had dared send her "Let It Rock" ringtone to cry havoc throughout her room.

"Hello?" she nearly ground out, borderline rude when she finally grabbed it blindly from her nightstand to hold up to her ear after a good ten seconds of the song.

"Téa!" a panicked voice yelled in her ear, causing her to wince and her ire to rise as she pulled the phone back slightly from her ear. "It's Yugi! I'm sorry to call you so early, but I thought you should know! Honda just called me. Apparently, Jonouchi never made it to the hospital last night!"

"What?" she shot up, forgetting her anger as mixed feelings of shock and fear suddenly coursed through her. _It couldn't be _him_, could it? No way. Stop it, Téa. Automatically thinking of the worst case scenario won't help anything. I'm sure Jonouchi has a perfectly logical reason why he missed the most important operation of his only sister's life. An operation he's been talking about for months, and a sibling he loves with all his heart… Right. There's got to be a perfectly reasonable explanation… Yes. _"How does Honda know? Who told him?"

"After Jonouchi didn't call him for anything last night, he decided to drop by the hospital early to check on him and see how it all went. He said that it was a madhouse down there. Shizuka refused her operation! She won't go through with it unless Jonouchi's there with her, and their Mom's a complete nervous wreck! She's the one who told Honda about his no-show."

"What do you want me to do?" Téa asked earnestly, already rummaging through her closet for something suitable to wear as she held the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Honda's already out looking. He's covered all of his usual hangouts but came up with nothing, so he's heading for the docks. If you can meet me at the shop, we can go back through to double check, but we have to hurry. The doctor performing the operation has to go to America tonight for another appointment, so if we can't find him before noon…"

"I'm on my way." Téa deftly hung up her phone as she proceeded to snatch up odd assortments of clothing that at least appeared to go together. She managed to settle on a sleeveless light green polo shirt that buttoned up, pink and blue bracelets for each arm, and navy shorts with a light blue belt.

After looking for her converse shoes for a good two minutes and finding nothing, frustrated, she took to grabbing the closest pair she had to her and winced. Platform sandals.

_Of all the things… No doubt this is going to be something I'll severely regret, but I don't have time to scour the house for anything else. I'll just get a thick pair of stockings to help cushion them; it's the best I can do right now._

Without wasting anymore time, she removed a pair of white stockings from her sock drawer and moved to slip those on before strapping the light blue death traps to her feet, the only comfort being that they were tight enough around her foot to not flop around everywhere.

Racing down to the kitchen, she nearly made it out the door before she realized that her mother wouldn't have the slightest clue about where she would be. Turning back, she drew out a pen from her mother's purse, ripped off a paper towel from the rack holding them, and wrote a quick note explaining that she was going over to Yugi's for the tournament. It was a half-truth, but she didn't really have time to go into further detail. Without looking back, she unlocked the door and raced down the front steps to Yugi's once more. Funny how often she'd taken to doing this lately. At least it was good endurance training for dance, at any rate.

* * *

After combing the city and coming up with nothing for what felt like hours, Honda finally found Jonouchi sulking and dejected on a small beach located on the west side of town. According to his account, Jonouchi had been intercepted by Rare Hunters the night before and had been beaten both physically and in the game, his rarest, most precious card, the Red-Eyes Black Dragon, stolen from him. It was like all meaning of life had been ripped away from him, so it didn't take much incentive for Honda to remind him of what was really important: his sister and her inevitable blindness if Jonouchi didn't show up. So, Honda did what he did best. He punched Jonouchi. _Hard. _

Despite how Yugi and Téa feebly protested Honda's brutality towards Jonouchi---it was also recognized as the method of how the two communicated with each other---, they had to admit Honda's methods bore fruit. While recuperating at Yugi's house, Jonouchi, and Honda by default, called from the hospital, Shizuka's operation already underway.

Jonouchi went into greater detail about the attack than Honda, and as Yugi and Téa listened over speaker phone, both gave a start when he described them as wearing black cloaks with hoods, a description eerily similar to what Bandit Keith had been wearing when he stole Yugi's Millennium Puzzle. They exchanged grim looks of understanding before refocusing their attention to what Jonouchi was saying. As soon as Shizuka was moved to recovery, he would leave for Battle City to find the Rare Hunter who stole his card and win it back from him, choosing to entrust Honda to look after his sister.

"Oh, good, because Shizuka is _just_ Honda's type," Téa remarked slyly.

"Shut _up_, Téa!" grumbled Jonouchi. "I really don't want to think about the consequences of my decision to leave her with him should they happen to hit it off. Not right now…Ugh!" His shudder of disgust could practically be felt through the phone.

"But, why is it so bad to have Honda as a step-brother?" grinned Yugi, joining in the fun. "You're practically brothers now, anyway."

"I'm leaving now! _Bye!_"

The brunette and tri-colored haired pair gave short laughs of amusement when they heard the receiver being slammed down on the other side.

Not long after, Yugi decided that he should get going, too. Téa knew that his leaving had more to do with finding Jonouchi to make sure that he didn't do anything too rash than for being there for the tournament's start at one o'clock, so she elected to stay behind for a while. Besides, her feet were killing her. She was surprised they hadn't just fallen off with the way they kept throbbing in pain; she conceded then that she desperately needed to own more flats.

That had been nearly forty-five minutes ago, and as Téa maneuvered herself through the motley crew that had showed up for the tournament, she was beginning to think she would never find Yugi, or Yami rather, as he was no doubt the one in control right now seeing as duels were materializing all around her. Leaning against a bus stop post, Téa accepted that she once again needed to get her bearings on her surroundings. Azure eyes darting around, she skimmed over the throng of people, hoping that Yami's affinity for leather and his acerbic hairstyle would be good enough means to spot him over everybody else. Really, now, how many other people could have hair like that?

After rescanning the area for a third time, Téa closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the post, and let out a tired sigh. He wasn't here, and it looked like he never was to begin with. She wished she had asked where he planned to go before he left, but the thought never even crossed her mind until now.

_I could really use a sign right now._

And as the saying goes, "Ask for help and you shall receive it," help was exactly what she got. To her right, a group of middle school boys suddenly broke out into a ruckus, laughing, joking around, which grabbed the attention of not only Téa but several others around her as well. Two of the boys sported Duel Disks on their arms, the others appearing to be there for moral support and to bear witness to the action going on around them.

"Man, I wish I was as good as you, Takeshi," a short, black haired boy said to one of the boys with a Duel Disk. "That way I could be in this tournament, too, but I'm nowhere near your level."

"You just started playing, though, right?" a lanky, blonde boy said, Takeshi, she presumed. "It's only natural that you're not an expert yet. Watch and learn from what you see here, and maybe you'll be advanced enough to participate in the next tournament."

"There's gonna be another tournament?" the black haired boy said timidly.

"There's _always _another tournament," smirked the other boy with a Duel Disk, a dirty blonde. "Don't you worry about that. Kaiba's gotta keep making that money somehow."

"Do you two think you're gonna win this? Maybe manage to beat Yugi Mutou in the finals?" A dark brown haired boy with prominent green eyes questioned dully, highly disbelieving.

"Hell no, Yamata! Are you crazy?"

"That would be _very_ wishful thinking, even for me."

"Speaking of Yugi Mutou, though," began the green-eyed boy, "I heard he was the first person to engage in a fight with another duelist this tournament and with one of those Rare Hunters at that. Even he'll have his work cut out for him to be able to beat one of those snakes."

"Are you serious? Is it still going on?"

"Yeah, let's go watch! Where is it, Yamata?"

"Uh, it should still be taking place where Sakura's café is. You know, the one across the street from Shizuru's Medical Spa?"

"Sweet! Let's go!"

"Yeah!" the other boys chorused, turning up the curb to run up the block facing behind Téa's position. The dancer sprang into action, moving to race right behind them as they unknowingly led the way to her best friend, and she wasn't the only one. All around her, Téa noticed, other duelists and curious bystanders were following the boys, hoping to catch the world famous King of Games in action. Téa laughed lightly. She wondered if Yugi, a once extremely shy kid with no other friend besides her, had any idea how popular he really was.

After sprinting for twelve blocks straight, Téa was really starting to have problems with a stitch in her side, her breath coming in huge gasps, the boys in front of her showing no signs of stopping. What were they feeding these kids these days? Finally, before she nearly stopped to catch her breath, she followed after the group around a final corner, surprised to see that they had stopped. The reason was obvious. A crowd of people encircled the entirety of the street, so Téa moved as close as she could to the brouhaha, standing on her tip-toes to see over all the heads to finally find the person she was looking for.

_Yami!_

Repressing the urge to pump up a sign of victory, she started to force her way into the crowd, barely registering the more cockier boy Duelist saying, "Aw, man! We got here too late; it's over!"

"Excuse me. Oh! Pardon me, sir," Téa said, the nicest gesture she could manage with how she was shifting through the crowd, which was just beginning to disperse. Between the myriad of bodies moving every which way, she noticed something peculiar about Yami. Instead of being relaxed and controlled like he usually was after dueling someone, he still had a look of fierceness about him, of battle, his guard still up and eyes narrowed on someone she couldn't see.

_The Rare Hunter? Has he said or done something? And, is that Jonouchi? Oh, well, that almost explains everything. _

He was saying something now, but through everyone else's babble, she couldn't make it out. _Enough of this! _Frustrated and confused, she managed to gang way through the mass at last, bursting into the open area that surrounded her friends and the Rare Hunter. Wanting to make her presence known, she yelled out, "Yugi!" remembering to use his given name instead of the one that no outsider knew about. It wouldn't be the best thing for them if the public was suddenly alerted to the fact that their championed Duel King was being possessed by a 3,000-year-old spirit of a pharaoh.

Surprised, Yami and Jonouchi turned their attention to her, noticing her for the first time, and they weren't the only ones. The Rare Hunter was transfixed on her, too.

Smiling briefly at her friends, she turned to look at the Rare Hunter for the first time. It was at this point that a very strange thing happened, something that none of them had ever expected or experienced. When Téa met the eyes of the Rare Hunter, the world dulled and slowed down, Téa herself seized by fear. She stared wide-eyed at the man, taking in his black cloak, glazed, unseeing eyes, and the Eye of Anubis glowing menacingly on his forehead, but that wasn't all she saw. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but somehow she suddenly had the gift to see between planes. For there, transparent and terrible, was the grand puppeteer behind the corporal man she saw in front of her, wearing a similar fashion only in purple, the golden rod with the hidden dagger she saw in her dreams clasped in his hand, and amethyst eyes glowing in surprise, faint traces of amusement and malice still clinging to them from dealing with Yami.

She _knew_ it was him, just like she knew that the world was round and that the sun gave off light. She had been right, those visions had told the truth, he was the enemy that Ishizu had spoken of at the museum, even, she deduced, the one responsible for the creation of this tournament, and she had been a fool to keep this information about him from her friends for so long.

Téa opened her mouth, ready to tell them everything right then and there, but what came out instead of a confession was a harsh cry of pain. Agony stabbed into her mind, and she felt like she was being torn apart from the inside out. There was a rushing sound in her ears, of thousands of voices speaking to her at once, and as she clutched her head with both hands, she dimly registered that her knees had buckled to collide with the concrete, Yami and Jonouchi at her side.

If they were saying anything to her, she would never know, for through all the noise in her mind, she couldn't make out anything else. When she closed her eyes, she was assaulted by a whirlwind of images, scenes that meant everything and yet nothing to her at all. When she tried to focus on them, a wave of nausea hit her---they were flashing by so fast---and the pain in her head intensified, spreading down her spine to follow every bone in her body. It was torture! She wanted either to die to be relieved of it, or black out, whichever came first!

_Anything to escape this agony! _She barely pieced together in her head, her pounding heart adding to the multitude of sounds cascading her mind. As if to correspond with her desire, she felt her entire body turn to lead, her vision tunneling into black regardless if she opened her eyes or kept them closed. Finally, when she felt herself slumping forward, about to collapse into darkness, she was just able to make out a disembodied voice in her head.

**Ask for help and you shall receive it. Right, Téa?**

Not even having time to feel shocked or afraid, Téa barely felt her mind and body finally giving out, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she passed into unconsciousness. It would be debatable later if death would have been the better path for her to be blessed with instead.

* * *

**A/N: And off to Egypt we go! YAY! Please review.**


	4. Ch 4: Upheaval

**A/N: Well, I'm back as promised with the next chapter! Hooray! Yay! Ok, enough partying. I ended it a little bit shorter than I had originally intended, but the reason is I feel that I have left you starved for some Malik action. He is in this chapter, don't worry, but I have decided that I am going to write quite a bit of the next chapter in his point of view. Yeah, you can go do the (Apache) Jump On It dance, it's ok. Haha. So, I hope you enjoy this next installment. What kind of shenanigans has Téa gotten into this time?**

**By the way, I have a poll going on on my profile about upcoming stories. I can't reveal the plot because I don't want it to be stolen from me, you understand, but I have given the pairings that will come into play, if they come into play. Please let me know which ones, if any, you like. It's just to give me idea on which ones to focus on next. Thanks!**

**Also, thank you again to my reviewers Merciless Ruby, PrincessOfHeartsNYP, and dearjenna. You guys are super-special-awesome.  
**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Upheaval _

It was warm. Very warm, far more than Japan normally was this time of the year. That was the first thing Téa noticed as she drifted back into the conscious world. The second was that she was incredibly stiff and sore, her head drumming with small throbs of pain, the aftereffects of…whatever it was that had happened to her in the middle of a grimy Domino City street.

Had she fainted? That must have been the case, since she had no knowledge of Yami and Jonouchi bringing her to Domino General. Although, someone really needed to do something about whatever bed she was lying on. It was undoubtedly the firmest, most unusual bed she'd ever had the unpleasantness of experiencing. It was strange. It felt rigid and hard yet the bare surface of it felt as flexible as water, only…grittier with what seemed like a knot as hard as a rock jutting into her back. Her lids still heavy and her head swimming in mild delirium, she relied on her sense of touch to figure out her surroundings. Finally, her brain was able to formulate a brief thought.

_Why did someone put sand in my bed?_

Of course, it wasn't the most comprehensive thought. Not in the slightest as she was soon about to figure out.

As soon as she felt herself slipping off again (her internal clock determining that it was far too early to get up seeing as how tired she'd been the last few days), she felt _something_ jab into her side. Flinching, she feebly swatted the annoyance away, groaning and disoriented. After a small pause, the force returned, more cautious, and resumed its curious poking and prodding. It was then that Téa's sixth sense decided to aid her, the sense that knows when you're being watched, the sense that can detect another's presence or movements near you even if you can't see them. It wasn't a something that was annoying her, it was a _someone_. Quite a few someones, in fact.

_What in the world are they teaching doctors nowadays? I know that everyone says, if you want to find rest, don't go to a hospital but God. This is just stupid._

Voices began to circle around her head; however, before they registered in the poor brunette's mind, they floated away as if blown by a stray wind. The only thing she could make out for sure was that they were young.

Rolling over to her side, her back to the someones, Téa tried once more to ignore them and drift away. This was a mistake, as it gave the aggravations even more of her to mess with, the pokings beginning anew both in front and behind her.

_Ugh! Fine! I'll take my friggin medicine! Why can't you just ask in the conventional way, jerk?_

A frustrated sigh, then the opening of deep, blue eyes. Since it was much brighter than the dark world behind her formerly closed eyes, Téa was prevented from opening them all the way, the light too harsh at the moment. But, she couldn't help their involuntary widening of surprise when she discerned what was in front of her: a set of rich, brown eyes and a young, tanned face was all she could make out as it was situated just centimeters from her raised head. Shocked, she let out a shrill cry, thoroughly startled, trying to separate herself from the person by crawling backwards on her hands.

The boy started at her reaction, jumping back and raising his hands before him in a defensive gesture as her unexpected cry scared him. He shot a quick glance to his friend, another boy his age with matching dark hair but black eyes, that stood facing him, now diagonal from Téa's retreated form. He had flinched slightly, surprised, but had held his ground, undoubtedly the bravest, most daring of the two.

As the party calmed down---both Téa and the first boy soon realized that the other wasn't going to do any harm---the boy lowered his arms and said timidly to his friend, "S-see, Akil? I told you I saw something."

The second nodded, turning his head to look at Téa as he replied, "Yeah, looks that way, Kontar. She's not dead, either." His ebony pools narrowed in observance as Téa's countenance underwent a swift change from being wary to extremely confused. Had they said something wrong?

He stepped forward, about to say something to her, when she opened her mouth to speak the strangest language he had ever heard. Even by the pitch and dialect of it, he could tell that it didn't belong in this region of the world.

"Uh, Kontar, did you catch that?"

"N-no, Akil. It is unfamiliar to me. Should we go get someone?"

A pause as the two thought, then the one dubbed Akil decided, "No. I don't think she wants to be found. Not with the way she's dressed at any rate."

"Yes, I, uh, noticed that, too. Maybe it's a European thing?"

As the conversation occurred in front of her, Téa almost thought that her ears had broken, that the previous pain she had experienced had knocked something loose and had rendered her unable to understand language. Fear stabbed into her heart, jolting it, until she realized just what a silly idea it was. No one went deaf just from experiencing a migraine, even though she knew that it was much more than that. She calmed herself and refocused her attentions on the two boys. Whatever they were saying was too far beyond her, though. Bored and put out at being kept out of the loop, she began to notice her surroundings for the first time and deduced that…this was definitely _not_ a hospital and these boys _weren't_ doctors.

Around her was a large open environment, the bed she had thought was beneath her actually a pliable, sand-covered ground with trails of sand showing a frantic, disturbed motion that cut paths into the ground depicting Téa's previous haste to give herself distance from the strangers. She seemed to have been sleeping on a raised incline of land, a path curving down and around to disappear behind a curb of rock; however, she could discern no more, for all around her were fairly-sized, jagged rocks that blocked her view of…whatever was left to see of this place. Fear began to creep into her mind once more. She knew there were no deserts in Japan, just the Tottori Sand Dunes, but they weren't anything like this. Where in the world was she?

She figured that the only way to get any information right now would be these two boys that had found her, but when she looked back over at them, they were otherwise preoccupied. They had closed the distance between themselves, discussing something in feverish whispered voices and vague hand gestures. It didn't take long for her to deduce that they were discussing her with the way they kept throwing glances at her and pointing in her direction.

Standing up, she proceeded to dust herself off from all the sand but soon gave up. The stuff was _everywhere_, and once it gets in your clothes, you may as well lose hope getting it all out until you can wash them. She could do nothing but grimace as her platform shoes sank into the sand with every step she took, but there was nothing for it. Hesitantly, she approached the boys.

When they sensed her nearing, their talking abruptly stopped as they viewed her with a wary eye.

Téa, not wanting to scare them off, halted about a meter from their position in order to give them space. She was unsure about what she wanted to ask them. She was even more confused that they hadn't understood her before, but for now, she chalked it up to poor verbal skills on her part. She _had_ just woken up and been scared out of her wits. Finally, she decided on, "Please. Can you tell me where I am?"

All she got for her efforts were twin looks of confusion before the tanned boys discussed among themselves why they couldn't understand her. Was she a primitive? Or maybe a foreign slave, a runaway?

Téa sighed tiredly, a wave of frustration coursing through her as she realized that their miscommunication was more complicated than simply not making out each other's words. Instead, they had an entire language barrier between them!

_Well, that's friggin' fantastic! And I'm not about to try the whole speak-loudly-and-slowly procedure that people on TV _thinks_ will work for foreigners to understand their language. Besides, I'm the foreigner here, it looks like. _

Meanwhile, Akil and Kontar were unknowingly solving Téa's dilemma for her.

"We can't understand each other, and she looks really lost and confused," observed Kontar. "What do you think happened?"

"Who knows?" replied Akil. "I overheard Father recently tell Mother that bandits have been frequenting the area more recently. Their leader has become more daring with the palace guards and the Pharaoh. Maybe she had a run-in with the Thief King's bunch."

"I hope not, for her sake. Should we help her?"

Akil pursed his lips in thought, then replied delicately, "If she _has_ run into him, or that partner of his, for that matter, they may want to come back for her." He and Kontar shot Téa sincere looks of sympathy before Akil came to a decision. "I'll tell you what. We'll lead her off this rock and take her into the bazaar, but after that, she's on her own. Besides, if we don't get back soon, our parents will notice that we never went to get water and beat us something fierce for sneaking away from our chores."

Kontar nodded fervently his agreement, stepping forward to catch Téa's attention. "C'mon, follow us!" He knew she couldn't understand him, but he hoped that she could tell from his helpful tone and sweeping gestures what he was implying and would trust him. Akil, assisting him, waved his hand forward and led the way down the rocky path that curled this way and that around the plateau. Téa, bewildered but anxious to be getting somewhere, followed tentatively, Kontar taking her hand to give her comfort and to help pull her forward.

The journey was much more perilous for Téa than it was for the boys. Their bare feet were easily able to grip the rocks to stable themselves while Téa's increasingly annoying shoes caused her to slip and fumble along, the only reason she hadn't taken a tumble by now was because of the support of Kontar's hand.

_I _knew_ I would regret wearing these damn things! I knew it. I _knew_ it!_

As such, she was unable to recognize any goings-on around her since her eyes were trained to the ground, hoping to stop a potential crisis before it happened. She soon noticed that the ground was leveling out a bit, giving her the courage to look up. What she saw stunned her, her feet unmoving as if nailed to the ground (Kontar experienced a brief whiplash from the unexpected stop.)

The rocky mass, instead of obscuring her view, was now located behind her, allowing Téa a first glimpse at her new location. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Bellow her was a quaint, but bustling town with sturdy, dust-colored buildings lining nearly every street. Many of these appeared to be homes while others were permanent shops, their vendors standing at the entrance to yell and wave enticingly out to the crowd their wares and bargains, if they weren't too busy flirting with the women. Even from this distance, Téa could see a well-built, bearded man entreating a group of women give a hearty laugh as the group blushed and gave flattered laughs, the shawls, or saris, wrapped around their waists swinging against their modest white linen dresses as they moved.

The real sight to see, though, was the market place located farther down the street towards the center of the town. Here, houses had to frequent much less in order to give room to the crafty street vendors and their carts of various accessories so they could do business with the townsfolk. These were located in a spacious circle around what appeared to be a public meeting place, holding a picturesque water fountain that young tanned children frolicked around and played in, the older ones with clothes and the younger ones happily without them, while their parents haggled with the merchants. On the outskirts of the town were fields that were being worked on, not by slaves, as Téa once believed, but by freeman who were feverishly working their own plots of land to support their families.

The town before Téa wasn't the only one of its kind, either. Indeed, all around her as far as she could see were towns similar to this one, all of them appearing to link together to make up one impressive suburbia, a city in these times with a vast, unending desert stretching out at the city limits. A might, indigo river wound northward through the land, shimmering in the light of the sun to appear as if diamonds floated at its surface. The Nile River, a river of plenty. The grand center of all these things, the fact that left no doubts in Téa's mind about where she was, were the great pyramids stretched high and unyieldingly into the sky, the palace and holy temples of the pharaoh practically on their doorstep.

Téa, eyes wide with shock---for how could this have happened? How could she be here, now?---fought to keep her composure but was failing miserably. Her breath was coming up short, coinciding with her erratic heartbeat fighting to fly out of her chest, and she could sense that her knees were about to give out on her. She leaned back against the warm rock for support, its solidity giving her the newfound idea of how badly her body was beginning to shake on her, and wrapped her arms around her to try to stabilize herself and give her comfort. It wasn't working.

This wasn't the Egypt she knew, the Egypt that was more Middle Eastern than African. Islam hadn't even been thought up yet, nor Christianity. In this time, people either worshiped the Greek or Roman gods and goddesses, or seeing as this was Ancient Egypt, the archaic Egyptian deities such as Osiris or Anubis. Past Europe, the Western World meant nothing here; by their beliefs, it isn't even known to exist. By this time, her own Asia must now have been getting its own bearings. Of course, by Asia she meant just China. Japan didn't even become Japan until around 500 A.D.

No, this was the Egypt that specialized in mummification and treating its rulers as gods in human form, that believed in a river stix and an afterlife for only the pharaohs and those that accompanied him. It was also the one place in ancient times, and some closer time periods as well, that treated women equally to men. It's a shame she hadn't paid much more attention in world history class about this subject. Maybe then she wouldn't feel so willing to just pass out and wake up again to find that this had all been some funny delusion as a result from laying on a no doubt diseased-ridden street in the sun too long. Maybe, she would be a little more prepared to deal with all this. But, it wasn't just being in a new place that completely petrified her. No, she could handle change and the unknown, but back home…there was always, _always_, somebody there to support her, to anchor her through everything. Here, there was nobody. _She_ was nobody. Even though these two boys were helping her now, beyond that they had no ties to her. If a lightning bolt struck her down now, they may think, "How horrible!" and then forget her come morning. Here…now…

She was totally and utterly alone.

And the thought nearly unraveled her.

Or would have, if it hadn't been for a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder, another waving in front of her face, with some other concerned countenance trying to get through to her. Jolting, she brought herself back down to earth, away from her fear and uncertainty. Those could be dealt with later. For now, she needed to just let these boys help her while they still could.

It was Kontar who brought her back with his childlike innocence and touch, Akil only standing impassively with crossed arms in front of her. "Hey, lady, are you alright?" the former asked, even though he knew she may not understand him.

But words of sympathy and kindness were rarely lost on Téa Gardner.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for alarming you, boys. I'm fine. Promise," she gave them both a dazzling smile to reassure them and a thumbs-up before pushing herself off a little shakily from her leaning position to walk ahead of them, nearly assuming the air of a leader. She turned back, one hand on her hip, the other still in its former position to jab over her shoulder. "This way, right?"

Akil and Kontar, sensing all was well, smiled at each other before Kontar, laughing, rushed forward to escort Téa by the hand again. Akil followed, arms still crossed, looking torn between being exasperated and amused.

* * *

The bazaar was far more involved than what Téa had originally discerned from her faraway, safe position on her plateau. Twice, the boys had to pull her away from the street hastily before she got ran over by some lunatic in a chariot.

_There's a reason, I think, _Téa fumed as she got up once again from the boys diving her to the ground to escape near death, _that people in my day have to get licenses to drive. Apparently, it really is the right thing to do seeing as how if you put _anyone_ behind a wheel of a car---or a herd of Arabian horses in this case---they go completely schizo! _

Otherwise, Téa was amazed by what was around her. It was a little overwhelming and would take some getting used to but it was also incredibly exciting. If only she could speak Ancient Egyptian! If only she could understand… But, there was no use wishing for the impossible.

They soon made their way to the center of town. It was here that the boys had to leave her, fearing punishment if they didn't return home right then. It didn't take too much communication on their part for her to understand what they meant, so she put on a brave face, bowing to them to deeply express her thanks. She expected their confusion at her strange gesture but was surprised, yet strangely happy to see them mimic her movement back to her, before waving and running off down one of the many populated streets. At their absence, her sadness returned and doubt began to creep back inside of her once more. She would miss them, their bright faces and kind nature, for, while she would dearly like to think it, she knew that it may be a long time before someone else would show the same helpfulness to her. It was funny how, lately, the universe and the incomprehensible God that ran it enjoyed proving her wrong.

After sitting for some time on the edge of the fountain, careful to keep her clothes dry for she had no others, she felt brave enough to venture out from this plaza square. Maybe there would be some sort of bulletin or something that could tell her where to get help? However, whatever prowess she had at speaking Ancient Egyptian couldn't compare to the fact that she had no clue about what its writing meant. What could a strange looking eye and an owl possibly mean to her? She turned away from the flyers, running her hand through her hair exhaustedly, and looked around once more. Unfortunately, whatever courage she gathered was quickly evaporated at the curious looks and stares she was getting from the locals. She could tell by their expressions and their gestures that they were talking about her, about how this strange girl was invading their comfort zones and corrupting their children with her outlandish, indecent clothes. For, indeed, many of the children appeared fascinated with her style, and her clothing choices _would_ be considered…whorish here, even though it was fairly conservative back home.

_But, I'm not home, and this isn't the 21__st__ century. I'm not even on the same continent anymore, and here, people would soon as stone me before hearing my side of it. … I need to get out of here. I don't care if I have to sleep outside tonight; I just need someplace quiet. I'll figure out something then._

And before anyone could stop her, she turned to practically power walk down a dirt made, moderately busy side street, ducking and moving to avoid contact with anybody. It wasn't one of the main streets but it wasn't a back alley either. She tried to look around her to make sure of where she was going without actually catching someone's eye; she was afraid of what would happen if she did. Once or twice, though, she caught the gaze of a merchant, and as he began to shout over to her, she had to pretend as if she hadn't noticed him and walk swiftly past. She felt guilty for just ignoring them like that without so much as a kind, declining smile---she had always felt bad about doing it in the mall, too. They were only doing their job, after all---but she couldn't understand them and had no money to help them out anyway.

When she came to a crossroads, she was unsure about where she should go (_as if it matters, in my condition,_) but, like nearly everything involving her these days, her mind was made up for her. There seemed to be some sort of commotion occurring behind her as one salesman shouted something that made all the consumers in the bazaar go wild. They rushed to him like a band of starving animals during feeding time at the zoo. In order to not be swept along in the throng of people hoping to get who-knows-what, Téa took the left path and ran along it when she finally managed to separate from everybody. Wanting to get as far away as possible and not entirely thinking straight, she twisted along with the street, taking a left, then a right, going straight, another right before she wouldn't be able to find her way back even if she wanted to.

She was just beginning to slow her pace, whipping herself around a final corner, head turned behind to make sure no one was following her, when she ran into a brick-solid wall. Or, at least, that's what it felt like, but then again, a brick-solid wall doesn't tumble down with you, nor does it wear an exotic style of clothes, or wrap two strong tanned arms around you either.

Disoriented and not a little unsure about how it happened, Téa opened her dazed eyes, which had closed automatically on impact, to find herself staring at a well-toned chest barely covered with an open white tunic. She blushed madly when she realized that the reason she knew how well-built it was was because her hands had inadvertently tried to brace themselves on this stranger's chest as she fell. When she felt him groan lowly and shift slightly beneath her, she sprang off of him as if suddenly burned and gave a shrill "Eep!" as she felt her entire head erupt into flame. Only then did she remember herself and her manners.

"Oh, my God! I am _so _sorry!" the flushed, azure-eyed dancer rushed to get out as she practically tugged the stranger to his feet, fussily dusting his clothes off and forgetting that absolutely no one knew a hint of Japanese during this time. It really wouldn't matter if he did or not, because by the time she was done with her rambling it was difficult to tell when one word ended and another began. "I don't know what came over me! Normally, I watch where I'm going, but I didn't this time, so I ran into you, and you fell, and I am _so, so_ sorry again. It was entirely my fault! I really should learn to watch where I'm going, even-though-I-was-taught-to-watch-where-I'm going. MotherwouldbesoashamedofmeohI'msosorryandnowyour clothesarealldirtyandnowI'mjust botheringyouandkeepingyoufromwhateveryouweredoingandagainI'mso---"*

She cut herself off when she finally stopped preoccupying herself with his clothes and looked up at his face. Fear. Fear and the feeling that the ground had just dropped out from under her, leaving her to the mercy of dark, cold, soundless space to suck her into its void. It was all she could feel; not even the warmth of this place could break through to the freezing sensation that now gripped her heart and lungs.

"Sorry," she whispered out, her voiced strained and shaking.

It was _him_, only he was…different. That's all she could describe it as. Something about him was different and yet absolutely the same as she remembered him. Those violet eyes burned into her, same shade, same shape and outlined in kohl. Except…they weren't narrowed on her in the promise of torment, cruelty, and torture. Instead, they shown with outward amusement and a hint of confusion at whatever had just come out of her mouth before. Platinum blonde hair was spiked wildly on his head, framing his face to give it a rakish look to sprawl carelessly down to his shoulders, which were covered by a long, red, linen robe. His lips were curled into a small smirk, and he appeared to not at all be affronted at just being slammed down into the dirt. A good sign…right?

Overall, she would have to say that his features weren't as sharp as what her dreams showed her, and for once she could see the entirety of his face. A rather handsome face, too. She found it much more pleasing to the eye now that it was devoid of blood drops and that glaring Eye of Anubis on his forehead, and---

_Whoa! T__éa, you stop that right now! It is not right to think that this murdering, raging psychopath that will kill all of your friends one day is attractive! _

_So, you do admit that he's hot. A little early, but, hey, I too am enjoying the fact that men in this era walk around with so much skin expos---_

_NO! No! No, no, no! This _is not right!_ It isn't! Shut up! He is _not_ hot, he isn't anything! To me. Or anyone. He is just a monster---_

_In your dreams, yes, but there's a big difference between dreams and reality. He hasn't done anything---_

_Yet._

_---so it's wrong for you to judge now. Besides, how is he going to carry out his evil plot while he's here in Ancient Egypt and your friends are in the year 2009? Hmm?_

_Uh, hello, _I'm_ here in Ancient Egypt, and I'm _from_ 2009. _

_Uh…Touché. _

So preoccupied was the distraught girl with her thoughts that she failed to notice the not-so-much-a-stranger tense at the sound of angry male voices approaching them from another alleyway. He whipped his head around to listen intently to their words and, upon finding what he was looking for, gave a short growl of annoyance and began looking for a new route of escape. He stopped suddenly when he realized that one had just practically fallen into his lap not five minutes ago, and, giving a wicked grin, he flipped his white hood over his abnormal blonde hair and swiftly cornered Téa against a nearby mud brick wall, shadows cascading over it to help hide him further.

By the time Téa noticed what he was doing it was too late. She was pinned against the wall, all manner of her own escape blocked by his arms positioned on either side of her head. Eyes darting widely around, she abruptly halted when his eyes captured hers, him whispering something she couldn't hope to catch. Then, she noticed… he was getting nearer, steadily and steadily nearer to her person, and Téa was about ready to panic.

"N-now, you wait a second, you---you scoundrel!" Téa demanded forcibly. Or tried to. It was her intention, anyway, before it came out shaky and breathless, her hands going up to his chest to try and push him away, but…

_Ugh…Dammit, but he's strong! And there's no room for me to try to kick him in his special place, even if he _is_ wearing a kilt. _Damn!

"I'm warning you! Get away from me, or I'll yell 'rape,' I swear I will!" she tried again, but he paid no heed, getting so close that their noses were nearly touching, their breath mingling together, and Téa's vision of the outside world obscured by his hood and his mesmerizing eyes.

"Alright, you asked for it!"

But, when Téa went to open her mouth, ready to scream for all she was worth, she felt something hot and hard cover her mouth.

_Oh. My. God. He's---kiss… But. Huh? I don't---He's kissing me!_

But all thought past that was effectively wiped clear from her mind like all data being erased from a computer hard drive as she suddenly felt his tongue brush across her teeth to gently begin stroking her own. Something erupted inside of her and she felt like she was burning, her skin as hot as an enflamed fire poker. At the same time, she felt her entire body grow weak, as if by containing this strange burst of power and heat within her, she was using up everything else she had. Her fears of sliding down the wall were unfounded, however, as he moved to pin his hard body against hers to keep her in place.

She stood there, stunned, allowing his caressing of her mouth because she had no idea of what to do or of what was even happening! This had never happened to her before, and her head was spinning from both confusion and whatever talent he had that could do this to her---oh, _wow. _Where did he possibly learn how to do _that?_

Just then, unnoticed to her, four broad shouldered men wearing only white linen kilts and hoods to cover their hair ran past them with vicious looking spears and looks of determination on their faces. They were completely unaware of the couple against the wall, and if they had noticed them, they would have left the two lovers to their business, a fact that the stranger had been counting on. Téa felt him smirk into her lips before finally---_uh…finally?_---pulling away to rest his forehead against hers, both panting lightly to catch their breath.

They stood there motionlessly resting against each other, Téa because her mind felt like it had short-circuited, and the stranger because he appeared to be listening for something. Silently, he pulled away to give her a self-satisfied smirk before turning his head slightly to whisper something into her ear, his hair tickling her check. Téa felt something being pressed into her hand but before she could deduce who, what, or why, he disappeared seemingly with the wind, leaving behind only the smell of exotic spices, parchment, and adventure as well as slightly bruised lips as any indication he had been there at all.

Furrowing her brows, she, at length, peeled herself from the wall when her mind connected back to her nerves again. She felt that she was steadily becoming accustomed to having her life be in constant upheaval but at the same time felt utterly unprepared for it.

Bringing her hand up, she opened her enclosed fingers that were wrapped around whatever he had placed within in them to find not one but three gold coins sitting innocently in her palm. _What?_ Bewilderedly, she began to move the coins around in her hand, the cool metal feeling every bit as precious as it appeared to be. Well, this was awfully kind of him, wasn't it? And to think, she had called him a monster before, but why would he do this? Did he realize that he had completely freaked her out and wanted to apologize? But, why give her money? Did she looked like the kind of person that coveted money, that---wait.

Téa looked at the coins in her hand to what she was wearing, back to the coins, then down at herself, then back to the coins a final time before it clicked.

Men don't give women money like this unless they've done something for them… A certain sexual something for them, and they would only pay a woman who looks something…like…a…

_That _jerk! _That egotistical, foul, stupid, evil _jerk! _He thinks I'm a freaking prostitute_! …And, he stole my first kiss! _I'm going to hurt him if I see him again, I swear it! I will _hurt_ him!_

As Téa raged in her mind, she bared her teeth hard, her grip tightening around the coins until they bit sharply into her skin. When she could contain her fury no more, she tossed her head back and unleashed the scream she had been wanting to release since she had woken up in this place but had been fighting to keep at bay. Only now, she had words to attach to it and a corporal body to focus it on, hoping, praying that he'd hear her.

"YOU BASTARD!"

Blocks away, people in the streets stopped to turn fearfully towards the inhuman shriek that reached their ears, somehow knowing it was shouting out a vehement curse. One person in particular halted in his tracks as he felt an ominous shiver race its way down his spine. He looked back over his shoulder stoically before letting loose a mad grin and continuing on his way. _I suppose she didn't appreciate my generosity. Not. At. All. Hmm, shame. I'll have to remember that until we meet again, love. _

* * *

**A/N: Yay, they met! Sort of. Haha. How embarrassing for Téa! Oh, I'm horrible for what I'm about to put her through. I have a vague outline in my mind, you see. What is Téa going to do to survive here? And what was Malik doing/thinking when he ran into Téa? All that and more will be answered in Chapter 5! Sorry, no title yet. Please review! They give me life and laughter, no kidding. They also really inspire me and give me more of an insight to what you want to see. So, they're essentially the reason why these chapters come out as fast as they do. I've gotten close to 300 hits for this story alone, so I really want to know: Do you like it? Do you hate it? I can take it, you know. Much abliged. **

**By the way, most things in here that relate to Ancient Egypt in any way are historically accurate. This includes dress, equality, horse breeds, town layout, farming, social life, etc. I have done some research, so I want this to be as close to the real thing as possible. The year, by the way, is around 1000 B.C., so I've focused during that time. The thing is, though, most Egyptians don't see bare skin as being indecent, so Téa's clothes may not freak them out as much as I made it appear. I meant for you to look at it more like the strange style of her dress and the fact that she is very light-skinned compared to everyone else would be a cause to raise eyebrows. They would find it strange that a European/Roman/Greek woman (for that is how she appears) would be wearing something like that more than anything else. **

**Akil and Kontar are real Egyptain names. Akil means "intelligent" while Kontar means "only son." It is important to note that they are not brothers, just good friends hence the relavence of Kontar's name. I don't know if they'll be back or not. I'm leaning towards no, even though I really like them both and feel they could be developed further, but I just don't know where to put them. It's up to you guys, I guess.  
**

***In case you had trouble reading this line, it's "Mother would be so ashamed of me oh I'm so sorry and now your clothes are all dirty and now I'm just bothering you and keeping you from whatever you were doing and again I'm so---"**


	5. Ch 5: Espionage

**A/N: Hey, guys! I'm back with a new chapter! Yeah, I know it took me long enough. I am so sorry! A lot of things have been going on in my life lately. Shortly after Spring Break, I took a four day Fine Arts trip to New York, which was amazing, by the way. I completely fell in love with the play _Wicked_, even though I despise _The Wizard of Oz_. I highly recommend anyone seeing it if you want to see an amazing show! Then, after I got back, I had to study for AP tests for English, American Government, and Statistics. An entire week was dedicated to both studying and taking them. As soon as that was done, two of my lovely teachers sprang last minute projects out of nowhere at me, making them count as either my Final, a project grade, both, or that PLUS a Final. Ugh is right.... This ended my last week of high school, but I had to return for most of the following week to practice for graduation. The time since I graduated has been spent towards graduation parties, hanging out with friends who I probably will never see again or that are going separate ways from me that I won't see but a few times a year. I also attended my college orientation and received my class schedule which I'm really excited about! Yet, even though I'm an English Major...I have no English class as of yet. Yeah, kinda weird, I know. Therefore, I have decided to write as much as I possibly can for my stories between now and the start of first semester on August 19th because, let's face it, college WILL take up a lot of my time. Having a laptop now, however, is making it easier since I'm no longer confined to one room! My time is being split another way, as well. A friend of mine has developed a brilliant plot for a book he's writing, and he wants me to be the co-author of it, so I am dedicating a fair bit of time to making this book be as awesome as it possibly can. There! Now you're caught up!**

**Disclaimer: Thank you for constantly reminding me that I own nothing that even remotely relates to Yu-gi-oh. I feel that I would forget that fact if I didn't have to do this every chapter....**

**A special shout out to: Reviewers dearjenna (aka my best fraaaaan!), Merciless Ruby, PrincessOfHeartNYP, and Chan-chan (thank you for appreciating my researching efforts. It really means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy the tidbits of info I've added to this chapter.)**

**As well as to those who have Favorited this story or added it to their Story Alerts: Amestriss, dearjenna, moonlit mage, Merciless Ruby, Nekolvr11, PrincessOfHeartNYP, the-writing-vampire, and TimeRose.**

**I treasure all of you.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Espionage

It was official. Bakura was a madman. It was the only logical explanation the blonde could think of to justify the Thief King's earliest actions. After all, a sane person doesn't typically raid the Pharaoh's holy temples and late father's tomb _repeatedly _and walk away with a satisfied smirk on their face.

For that reason, he felt that he couldn't have chosen a better partner in crime.

Taking one last wary look around the crowded market, Malik, master thief and Bakura's right hand man, stepped forward from the shadowed street that hid him from unwanted eyes into the blazing sunlight.

Despite Malik being a native, full-blooded Egyptian, he had been blessed with features highly uncommonly found amongst his people: blonde hair and lavender eyes. His eyes, he knew, were a highly sought-after attraction for the women of Egypt, a point he proved by locking eyes with a young woman from across the plaza, who blushed madly after he winked flirtatiously at her. The hair, however, was proving to be more of a curse as of late. Continuing on his journey farther into town, he made sure once again that the white hood of his crimson robe completely covered his hair. It seemed to be the target for many of the Pharaoh's guards for it made him more easily identifiable. After all, there weren't many who had focused their talents on the stealing persuasion while possessing fair hair here unless they were foreign, of course.

Bakura was planning something, that much he knew. Something big. Why else would he have sent him into the closest city near the Pharaoh's palace unless he wanted information regarding the area's security? It certainly wasn't for the sake of gathering supplies. If that had been the case, they simply would have ransacked the area and taken all they wanted in force. Besides, all they really needed they could get much easier at some location farther off from the palace; there was much less chance of experiencing casualties that way. So, what was it, then? Regardless of the reason, Malik had no doubts that he would be informed in time; Bakura himself may not know completely what it was he was after. All that really mattered now was that no guards caught sight of him, otherwise it could prove fatal for him since he was severely outnumbered and unfamiliar with the city.

Malik walked at an eased pace through the streets, weaving gracefully through the crowd and sending a polite acknowledgement towards anyone he caught sight with. If he appeared to be in a hurry or looked guilty about something, then that would be more than enough reason for the authorities of the Pharaoh to hinder him and ask awkward questions. Of course, he'd be lucky to get as far as the questioning stage if they viewed his face clearly. Just that alone would be enough evidence to put him in chains to be drug into the High Priest's torture chambers. If he even made it that far.

The young thief was brought out of his musings by a loud, rugged voice ringing out directly beside him. Turning his head sharply to see the source of the noise, a look of irritation marring his features, the blonde took in the wide berth of a tanned skinned merchant sporting a turban on his head, open beige robes, and matching linen pants that looked as if they had seen better days. The man was waving him over, cobalt eyes glittering in the light of the harsh Egyptian sun.

"Come closer, young sir! _Closer! _Surely there is something of my wares that catches your fancy? Perhaps something for the home decor? But, of course, a man such as you must have a lady friend who would appreciate some of my splendors?" The man grinned widely in some private amusement.

Malik felt no need to indulge the vendor. He remained standing firmly where he was, looking with barely restrained disdain and a faint air of superiority at the products that were laid strategically on the table. Clay pots of different sizes and shapes littered the stand, along with various other pottery works, some of them with a glazed finish to give them the shine of glass. There were also many styles of jewelry for both men and women to adorn themselves with, the most popular piece of a scarab, or a beetle, being present among them as the beetle was a symbol of resurrection and afterlife to many Egyptians. Earrings, necklaces, rings, and bracelets decorated with semiprecious stones of amethyst, feldspar, and turquoise were fanned out to glisten in the sun, a clever technique to attract the eye of the wayward shopper. Some crude cosmetics made of lead and copper lay off to the side while a dramatic flower headdress took up the main attraction as the centerpiece. In retrospect, these products were sound appliances that many normal Egyptian families would love to have and appreciate. Unfortunately, Malik wasn't a normal Egyptian, and he didn't have to worry himself about a family. The only thing that could interest the thief about the merchandise before him was whether any hints of gold, silver, or precious stones could be found among them. One glance informed him that this merchant had failed in all aspects of his interests. Malik threw an amused smirk his way before turning away to continue his progress down the street, kicking up dust to brush his legs in the process, completely uncaring whether he had offended the man or not.

_He should feel so lucky, _the blonde thought, _that he truly contained nothing of value, for if he had... Well, I've always appreciated a five-finger discount. Not to mention how the others would jump at the chance to clean him out of all his worth had I showed them all what he had in his possession. No doubt their imaginations would run wild._

Malik tried as hard as he could to stay beside the walls of the streets he traveled on, not only because a chariot could invade the street at any time, but also because it would be so much easier for him to make an escape down a side street or alleyway should the need arise. Malik had nearly reached the heart of the city before two men caught his eye. They were both broadly-built, dressed only in white linen kilts, leather sandals, and matching white hoods and carrying spears in their hands. Malik recognized them instantly: the Pharaoh's guards. The violet-eyed thief ducked his head down discreetly, turning casually to appear that he was focused on something hanging on the mud-brick wall beside him. Keeping them in his peripheral vision, he watched as they talked in low voices amongst themselves, they, too, being wary of what was occurring around them. They were soon joined by a third companion, dressed just the same as they. Malik deduced that it was a common dress code they all had to follow, a fact that he thanked Amon-Ra for. If all of the guards dressed in the same, or similar, uniform, it would be easier for the Thief King and his men to both monitor them as well as hide out from them during whatever operation Bakura had planned.

The third guard was decidedly younger than the other two, though still well-enduranced for his position. He seemed to be talking animatedly about a topic that was clearly important to him; the other two merely looked bored and ungrateful to have been brought into the loop. Malik's curious nature compelled him to take a risk to be closer to them in order to hear what the young man was saying. While his companions may deem it as a waste of breath, that didn't mean it didn't have merit to his own mission.

Before he could get too close to them, though, something else forced its way to become the forefront of importance in Malik's eyes. There, nailed to the wall in parchment that had clearly been forced to endure the weather and the elements, were depictions of what seemed to be two roguish young men. Malik edged closer, trying not to appear too eager to find that, yes, it was just as he had thought, had hoped, it was: a wanted poster, one half dedicated to Bakura, the other half to him. Malik couldn't stop himself if he tried. His face broke into a wide, mad grin.

His eyes keenly raked across the faded, manilla parchment, taking in the calligraphy that was scrunched around the rough but accurate drawings of him and his partner. The more he read, the more delighted his facial expression grew. The paper contained the following message for the citizens of Egypt:

**_Order Issued from High Priest Seth as Dictated by Our King, the Most High Pharaoh Atemu_**

_Citizens of our native homeland of Egypt should be on high alert for the following offenders of the laws set by both Pharaoh Atemu and the Gods: Thief King Bakura (pictured left) and his accomplice, Malik (pictured right). Both are the head of a large gang of bandits, both men and some women, that have been populating and defiling the area more recently, paying particular attention to the holy temples and the graves and tombs of prominent Egyptians, many of which being those of former Pharaohs. Thief King Bakura is well-known for his albino-like features, white hair and red eyes, while Malik possesses the similar fair features of blonde hair and violet eyes. These men are extremely dangerous and are known to turn violent in an instant; therefore, heroics are not encouraged. DO NOT APPROACH them if you can help it. If seen, notify a guardsman immediately. However, if one goes so far as to provide means to lead to either of these men's capture, even going so far as to ensnare them yourself, you shall be rewarded sufficiently for your efforts in a number of services or commodities_*_ of your choosing. It should be noted that this will only take place if one or both are captured alive. Finally, any person, Egyptian or otherwise, who attempts to harbor these criminals or any member of their operation will likewise be tried as a criminal and sentenced to death._

Once he was finished reading, Malik, a grin still fixed on his countenance, reached up to grasp the rough paper, delicately yanking it off the nails that had held it in place. The paper crinkled in his hand as he moved it about, all the while thinking how amused Bakura would be to see it. His grip on it was loose, however, as the paper was no doubt quite fragile from being outside too long that it slipped from his fingers when a sudden fierce wind unexpectedly swept through the street. The thief turned swiftly to follow its trajectory, cursing all the while under his breath when he froze, mortified, as he noticed just _where_ the wind had taken it. The parchment was forced to halt in its flight as it wrapped around the leg of one of the three, no, now four, guards that had taken up post on the opposite side of the street. Malik watched in some sort of stunned fixation as the man bent down to remove the offending paper from his appendage, and upon examining it, brought it to the attention of his fellows.

"Hey, boys. Get a load of this."

"---But, Sabah is so gorgeous, Heru! Do you think I should approach her, or---"

"For the love of Isis, Ebo, would you _please_ shut up about your awkward love life? I honestly couldn't care less!"

"Don't you just _love _new recruits, Heru?"

"Oh, enough! What is so interesting, Yamanu?"

"Well, from the looks of this, things are about to get a bit more interesting around here. Look!" The guard holding the wanted poster, Yamanu, turned the paper so his other three companions could see for themselves the reasoning behind his last statement. As their eyes read over the page, Malik saw that it was time to make himself scare before they looked around and finally put two and two together. Ironic, really, how the information found on that weakened piece of paper had recently been a source of mirth for him when any second now, it could damn him. And damn him, it did.

Ebo, the youngest guard who was feeling slightly putout at being reprimanded, barely took in the images of the two thieves on the papyrus when movement from his left caught his eye. He lazily looked towards the object when he snapped his eyes back to the image on the right, adrenaline suddenly rushing through him. There,_ right there_, was one of the bandits newly added to the Pharaoh's hit list! He was sure off it! The white hood upon his head, now slightly askew, revealed his blonde hair and everything. It was an exact match! But...how to let the others know without alerting the one they're supposed to capture? And, why did they have to be discussing something now?

"Pssst! Heru!" Ebo whispered. Nothing.

"_Psssst! Heru!_" This time Ebo added a light nudge into Heru's ribs in order to get his attention. Still nothing.

Ebo was starting to get a little desperate now as he noticed that the thief---Malik, was it?---was steadily getting further and further away from his peripheral vision. "Heru! _Listen to me!_" Ebo jabbed somewhat harshly into the man's side. Either Heru _really_ didn't notice anything, or he had gotten really good at ignoring him. Ebo suspected the latter, so he decided to do something a little crazy to get noticed, something that would probably get him killed any other day. Somehow, he figured Heru would appreciate it in the long run. Ebo reached up to get a fistful of Heru's white hood and a few strands of hair in the process and tugged. _Hard._

Heru yelled out in surprise before growling, "Damn it, Ebo! What the _hell---_"

Ebo didn't know any other way to say it. "If you're looking for the thief, Malik, he's right over there."

"What?"

"Malik," Ebo repeated, a little sheepishly but also exasperatedly. "The Thief King's right hand. The second guy in that poster you three are fawning over! Well, I've been trying to tell you that he's _right over there!_" Ebo tossed his head in the direction Malik was currently trying to retreat towards, both trying to be nonchalant.

"What do you mean 'he's right over there'? What the fu---" But as the other three guards turned their head to where Ebo was directing, the group froze when they realized that he was right. Malik, knowing he was caught, froze also. For a second, none of them moved, almost believing that some sort of strange mirage had been placed before them. Then, Malik straightened, suddenly cool and confident. He flashed them a taunting, self-assured smirk, being totally in control with the situation, before offering them a sarcastic little wave of the hand.

"Hi."

Before the guards could even process just_ what_ had happened, Malik turned and fled at a full sprint down the nearest alleyway.

"After him!" Yamanu yelled, beginning pursuit as he hoisted his spear at an easier and safer angle to run with. Behind him, he heard the others doing the same.

Malik wound agilely along with the street, keeping to the shadowed half of the road as the sun's light could only reach a portion of the area because of the height of the mud-brick walls. He kept to what he believed was the unpopulated streets of the city as he turned this way and that. While it would be a lot easier for the men to find him, being in a populated area could hinder him and potentially add more forces to the men chasing him if more guards were nearby. Fortunately, his keen sense of direction was serving him well at the moment. Malik ducked as he suddenly heard a _whoosh!_ sound from behind him. Quickly turning right down another street, he glimpsed a spear still rocking back and forth from where it had embedded itself into the wall, missing him by inches. The blonde gave a brief wince, knowing what kind of pain awaited him had that throw been successful.

It was that event that led Malik to feel that now was as good a time as any to get these do-gooders of the bloody Pharaoh off his back. Minutely, he cursed himself for venturing into the city unarmed even though he knew it would have looked suspicious if a seemingly ordinary civilian was walking around with a sword at his side and a long dagger strapped to his leg. He began scanning the surrounding street as he ran, looking for a low enough wall or roof edge he could jump up and grab, with enough momentum. He ran for a full two minutes, dodging a second spear when he finally saw what he was looking for. Towards the end of the street was a low, flat roof comprised of mud and greenery, but it looked stable enough to walk on. Across from the house and against the wall were a few wooden crates, a small length of rope laying beside them. The rope Malik didn't have time to invent a use for, but the crates...they would do perfectly. Putting forth a new burst of energy, Malik sprinted towards the crates with renewed vigor. Once he reached them, without stopping or faltering once, he ascended up them and began to use that momentum to scale the wall. Once he got to the height he needed---a good thing since it was all that gravity would allow---he jumped off the wall and turned in midair, arms outstretched, and when his hands came in contact with the roof's edge, he clung on for all he was worth, not even letting go when his body jerked from his downward fall. As he heard shouts of surprise from the guards, he hoisted himself quickly up onto the roof, a spear barely missing his leg as it briefly dangled over the side. He looked back to give a smug smirk before pushing himself onward to jump across onto an adjacent rooftop, careful to watch the guards as they followed his movements, only still on the ground. Finally, he came to a set of houses that were connected to a whole different segment of streets; if those men wanted to follow him, they'd have to find another way to get to him. That was another thing he was thankful for about Egyptian towns: to the untrained individual, they could take the form of miniature labyrinths. He hurtled through another set of houses, getting himself even further away from his pursuers, when he felt it was safe to drop down to the street below. He had barely taken two steps before something or someone plowed right into him, off-setting his balance which caused him to fall flat on his back in an instant, the wind knocked out of him.

The thought to get up didn't even register in Malik's mind, not only because the aftereffects of his adrenaline rush he accumulated during his escape had worn off, leaving him drained, but also because the ground felt deliciously good and cold at the moment. Moreover, the thing that had run into him felt euphorically good wrapped in this arms, being hard and soft in all the right places. A woman, then. Suddenly, the day just got a little bit better. All the same, he couldn't stop a low groan of pain as he felt something sharp on the ground jab him in a few places. At his sign of life, he heard the woman let out a small, shrill cry of surprise before leaping off of him in a frenzy. While he was slightly grateful for the loss of her faint but extra weight, he nearly let out a moan of protest at her leaving. He didn't know why, but she had felt really, _really_ good.

Malik opened his eyes, barely taking in a lean but slim figure, fair skin, chestnut-colored hair, and deep, innocent eyes the hue of the Nile that were concerned with everything but his face, it seemed, before she sprang into action. Flushing in embarrassment, she helped tug him to his feet all the while letting loose a tidal wave of words, all of which belonged to the strangest, most peculiar language he had ever heard before. Naturally, he understood none of it, but from her posture, her ever-reddening face, the feverish motions of her hands dusting his clothes off, and the growing rapidity of her speech, he could tell that she was completely flustered and utterly humiliated by knocking him down. The thief wasn't used to behavior like this from anyone. It was...cute. And, of course, entirely amusing. He could feel his mirth spreading across his face when, finally, the young woman looked up at him, locking her rich blue eyes with his. He was slightly disturbed at what he found there.

Whatever color that had flushed her face had quickly drained away at seeing his. Her eyes widened no longer in surprise but in pure terror as she took a few steps back from him. This intensely puzzled him until he remembered what he had just found moments ago: the wanted poster. It was highly unlikely that that was the only one of its kind in the whole city if he and Bakura were so dangerous to the denizens of Egypt. It was possible that she had seen it, seen him as one of the bandits, and was now imagining the thousands of ways he could kill her. Malik fought to keep his features as they were, not wanting a snarl of disgust to alarm her further.

_Damn that Pharaoh! _Malik raged in his mind._ He knows nothing of what Bakura and I are like, spreading his propaganda of lies to strike fear in the public about us. If he'd bothered to observe us at all, he would know that we don't tolerate any meaningless violence on the general public unless we have no other choice. It's with the royal family and those who protect them that we have business to settle, not them. Bastard!_

Malik was disturbed from his thoughts when he heard the voice of one of his pursuers ring out nearby. "He went this way, I'm sure of it! Let's go!" The cries of affirmation from the others floated to his ears from only one street over. They would be upon him soon.

_I didn't give them nearly enough credit,_ Malik mused, torn between being thoughtful and frustrated, a growl escaping out. _I thought they would soon give up, thinking I was long gone, but now here they are, nearly caught up with me again!_ If only he hadn't been so distracted... Now he had to find a hiding place quickly, or...

Wait. Now, just wait one moment. He didn't have to go looking for an escape at all. It had already found him, and what a lovely escape she was. Besides, he believed she owed him for running into him, anyway, and by the way she was dressed, he figured she was already asking for it. He gave a mischievous grin, eyes dancing wildly with delight. He was going to enjoy this, and he would make sure she did, too.

He refastened his hood over his hair, locating a darkened corner of the street while doing so, and slowly began to back the girl into the wall behind her, finding it slightly humorous how she seemed completely ignorant of what was happening around her. Positioning his arms on either side of his head, he watched as recognition finally lit up her eyes. She realized what was happening now. Her desperate attempts at looking around stopped abruptly when she met his eyes, uneasiness swimming plain as day within them. He found it strange that this woman didn't have any walls whatsoever around her emotions; it seemed that nearly every woman he associated himself with had something she wanted to hide. Why was this one so different? He supposed it didn't really matter. Not right now.

"How convenient," he whispered silkily to her, "and totally perfect this all is, wouldn't you say, my dear?" He began to lean towards her, eyes flickering between her own and her lips. She looked intensely nervous, words belonging to her mysterious language rushing hurriedly from her lips.

_Sorry, love, didn't quite catch that_, he laughed inwardly, almost letting out a moan when she suddenly placed her hands on his bare chest. He had never truly desired a woman before, but there was something about this one that absolutely entranced him. She began to implore him again in her foreign tongue, but since he understood none of it, he ignored it, only wanting to get closer to her. It was when she opened her mouth a final time, exposing her tongue in a movement that, for some reason, he found extremely erotic that he couldn't take it anymore. He swiftly captured her lips in his own, taking advantage of her open mouth to slip his tongue inside, wanting to see if her taste was as exotic as everything else about her. He wasn't disappointed as wave upon wave of some sort of tangy but sweet taste he couldn't identify enveloped his senses with each languid stroke of his tongue.

He suddenly felt the urge to feel more of her, so without thinking, he moved to slam his body against hers, relishing the feel of her being this close to him again. He kept the pace of their kiss slow, sensing that he had caught her off guard with his actions and seemed genuinely at a loss at what to do. He guided her gently through his ministrations until he felt her barely kiss him back, the movement so minute that he wondered vaguely if she was even aware that she was doing it.

He heard rather than saw the four guards speed past them, their spears recovered, before they were left alone again. Malik almost wanted to laugh aloud---he felt strangely happy for some reason---but instead settled for a smirk against the girl's lips. He pulled away, aware of the fact that the both of them needed to breathe, and did so while resting against each other's foreheads. The blonde let out a weary sigh. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay and get to know this foreign girl even though the thought of doing so was illogical and came from out of nowhere. It's not like they could understand each other, anyway, and besides...was one kiss really all it took before he was whipped? Now, that just wasn't worth it, was it? He was nearly disgusted with himself; he was getting soft, and he didn't like it. Perhaps getting away from this wench really was for the best. At any rate, he had been gone from the hideout for several hours now. Bakura would want results, and if he didn't show up soon... Well, let's just say an insanely pissed off albino was never a fun albino, unless that wrath of his was directed towards someone else, of course.

He moved his head away from hers as he fished around for something in an inner pocket of his robe. Finding what he sought, he flashed her a smirk that could be described as self-serving, before he leaned down to whisper to her, "For your troubles, harlot." He pressed three gold coins into her hand, figuring it was probably all she was after in the first place, before he hurried away from her in his original direction down the street, not even gracing her with a look back.

He made it through the street uneventfully until he came upon a main road that lead directly into the heart of the city, making his journey much easier. On the way, he spotted another wanted poster, similar to the one he happened across before. Wasting no time, he tore it from the wall and folded it up as he walked, slipping it into his pocket for further inspection later. He almost made it to the end of the bazaar near the open area that contained all manner of traders, families, and a large water fountain when he heard something that made him almost fear for his life.

A yell of absolute rage fanned out over the market, stunning all the people there in their steps for a moment as they all tried to identify what belonged to that fanatical cry. He didn't have to guess, though. He'd recognize that foreign dialect anywhere now, and even with that demonic edge to it, he still found it pleasing to the ears. He looked back over his shoulder stoically before letting loose a mad grin and continuing on his way. _I suppose she didn't appreciate my generosity. Not. At. All. Hmm, shame. I'll have to remember that until we meet again, love._

_

* * *

_

Téa stood stock still for a moment, continuing to glare menacingly at where she had thought the stranger's route had taken him. Before long, however, she felt that it took up too much of her diminishing energy to maintain this level of anger and decided to drop all her negative feelings in an instant. Feelings of tiredness and listlessness surged over her, and the brunette gave a heavy sigh to try to relieve some pressure off of herself. It helped a little, but even she knew that none of her problems had been solved by her action.

Her encounter with her not-so-stranger had taught her one very important thing. No matter how much she may want to or need to, she couldn't avoid human contact in this place forever. Not only could it be her downfall, but also it wasn't probable. There was no telling how long she would be here. By the off chance, the very unlikely chance, that someone could understand her here, she would need to come up with an alibi. These people may be superstitious at times, but she severely doubted a story involving time travel would fly too well with the natives...if that was even what it was.

While she was thinking, she had been moving through the deserted street when directly at her right, a door of a modest, mud-brick house opened beside her. A tanned, ebony-haired woman in her early forties stepped out, a questioning expression on her face which rapidly gave way to a warm expression when she saw Téa. She spoke to Téa in the language that was quickly becoming both a source of fascination and irritation to her: Ancient Egyptian.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't understand what you're saying, and I doubt you understand me, either."

Without warning, Téa immediately wanted to begin crying out of hopelessness at seeing another expression of confusion come her way. She really was alone here, wasn't she? There wasn't anyone to help her, not in the way that she truly needed to live, to be in the pleasant company of someone who understood her.

It was then that she felt it again, the force of something baring down on her mind, except this time there was no pain to accompany it. This force, whatever it was, was similar yet so different from the one before. Once again, a bodiless, sexless, strong voice rippled through her mind.

**Try English, Téa.***

What? English? Was this...whatever out of it's friggin' mind? Well, obviously, it was; it was in _her_ mind, after all.

**Trust me, Téa.**

Fine. Fine, she would. It couldn't really do too much harm, could it?

"Excuse me, ma'am," the blue-eyed girl started in English, "you wouldn't happen to understand English, would you?"

"Why, child, as a matter of fact, I do!" the woman said happily, her own English dialect slightly halting but still easily recognizable. "Just endure with me, please. It is still a little...choppy."

_I don't believe it, _Téa remarked, feeling almost dumbstruck, _yet something tells me that I really should._ The woman smiled down at her from the top of the quaint, mud-brick steps that admitted entrance into her home.

"I take it, then, that my native language is out of your reach, then, yes?" At Téa's nod, the Egyptian returned the gesture, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Ah, well, in that case, I will speak in what makes sense. I asked you before if you...what's the word..._noticed_ anything strange going on on my roof?"

"Oh." Téa was genuinely confused. Something on her roof? _Had_ there been something? "Uh, well, I didn't see or hear anything, ma'am. I'm sorry. Why do you ask if it's not too personal?"

"Personal? Oh, no, not at all, child. I was just curious. When it happened, I was very preoca---preoccu---busy with keeping house that I could not leave my tasks until just now to instigate it."

"Instigate? Oh, you mean, _investigate._" The woman smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, yes, of course. Forgive me." She stepped down from the steps to the ground, turning to survey the parts of the house she could get to, her thin, pristine tunic dress swaying as she walked. Patches of sun littered the ground here and there, so when she stepped through them, Téa glimpsed the shine and sparkle of the woman's various jewelry accessories: studs in her ears, two or three bracelets made of colored beads on each arm, and a matching necklace with a turquoise stone. As the dark-haired woman's eyes scanned every area of the roof she could from the ground, Téa took the time to notice how tastefully done her make-up was, a fact that impressed the azure-eyed girl in these primitive times. Kohl lined her dark eyes and lashes, making her gaze seem more piercing than usual, though not unkind. A red powder Téa remembered was called ochre took the place of her modern day blush to add color to the woman's face, and when she raised her hand to tap her chin inquiringly, she observed that some type of dye had been used to redden her nails. The young dancer was then struck with the idea that Egyptians, no matter their social status, took great care and pride over their appearances. After all, here was one before her who must live a very modest life at best, and yet, she looked incredibly beautiful being only what the higher-ups would term a peasant. As she thought about it, nearly every person she had seen or encountered thus far had looked as good or better than the woman before her; at this rate, she doubted she'd be able to tell the poor from the rich even if it was spelled out for her.

"It doesn't look like anything's damaged, from the inside or the out," the woman stated, turning back to approach Téa. "I suppose it's best if I don't question it. Bastet was watching over this house today." Téa only nodded in response, not really sure how to comment on something she neither believed or understood. "Although, there is one other thing that...disturbs me, I guess? There was a terrible, _terrible_ shriek that seemed to happen right out on this street not even five minutes ago. I know I didn't imagine it. There's no way I _could_ imagine it... You must have heard it, yes?"

"Ah, well, uh, you see," Téa began, starting to get flustered. How was she supposed to tell this wonderful, kind lady that _she_ was the one who sounded as if she were ordering the opening of the gates of Hell? In her experience, though, it was best to not start a potential friendship on a lie. "That was, um, me, I'm afraid. You see, I got really, uh, _distracted_ by someone, and the end result left me, well, really pissed off to say the least. I had to let it out, or I thought I'd explode. I guess you could say that I'm the type who bottles things up until they become...unbearable. I'm sorry if I scared you or anything."

"That was seriously you?" The woman asked, unleashing a hearty laugh. "Well, that's good to know. At first I thought that Seth* had returned for another round of terror upon Egypt's land and people. Oh, how funny!" She was seized by laughter momentarily once more before she straightened up, offering the girl another warm smile. "Regardless of any ill-placed rage that took over you earlier, it is still very nice to meet you. I am Thema."

Téa beamed lightly, a sense of peace overtaking her, making her unaware that she had dropped her guard. "I'm happy to meet you, too, Thema. My name is Té---"Téa winced inwardly, wanting to kick herself. Did she not agree to herself earlier that she would come up with an alibi and _not_ give her real information? At least this proved that espionage would never be her forté. She continued on, "--ana. My name is Téana."*

"Téana..." Thema nodded in approval. "I take it you come from the North and aren't native to these lands." It wasn't a question, but Téa addressed it all the same.

"No, ma'am. I come from," Téa hesitated a moment, thinking rapidly, "Troy."

"Troy?" Thema mused. "Troy...Troy...Now where have I heard----oh, of course! It was just recently established just a few years ago, wasn't it? My husband told me about it once. ...I guess you're choice of dress is customary there?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's right."

"...You're awfully polite, aren't you? Well, stop it. You don't have to put up that front with me. Unlike most lands you're no doubt used to, here in Egypt, we are all equals. You know, if you ignore the economy."

"Ha-ha! Right, sorry, Thema. I'll stop...only so long as you stop calling me 'child'."

"Ah, see, now you're having fun. But, I suppose now we must part. Your family must be worried about you." Téa's distressed look immediately set off warning bells in Thema's head. "Surely, you have family here? You didn't travel alone?"

Téa could feel her resolve breaking. She had almost forgotten about how horrible her current plight was, so overjoyed was she to find someone here who held a hint of something she was familiar with. She felt herself shaking, and before she realized it, tears were streaming down her face. The only reason she knew she was crying was because her vision blurred at inconvenient intervals, the results of which she felt run salty streaks down to her chin, where they dripped off. Her voice cracked and shook slightly when she spoke, "I have nothing here, Thema. No family. No friends. No contacts of any sort. Hell, you're the first person I've met who even understands me here. I don't even know how I got here! One second I was safe, I was _home_, and now---"

Her speech was cut off as Thema pulled her in for a tight, protective hug, her maternal instincts crying out to comfort this poor girl in front of her. Téa was reminded so vividly of her mother, who she may never see again, that it hurt, it physically _hurt_ to think of her. The sobs choked out of her throat uncontrollably as she tried to block out those thoughts, and she felt Thema wrap a reassuring arm around her shoulders, her other hand lying comfortably on her arm as she led her inside her house.

The interior of the dwelling was simple and surprisingly cool, but Téa had never been so relieved to see such a wonderful sight of a home before now. She realized that the door she had just stepped through wasn't the front door, as she had assumed, but the back, a fact proven to her as Thema guided her over the earthen and reed mat-covered floor, past two rooms that looked to be a bedroom and living area as well as a ramp off to the end of the room that led upstairs, and out another, now identified as the front, door. The room that greeted her stunned her enough to halt her tears for the moment as she gazed around in shock and intrigue of what was before her. It appeared to be a sort of courtyard area. Walls surrounded it on all sides, connecting it to the house. Directly opposite from her was another door that she guessed led out into the street. It was a room, just without a roof, she noticed. The courtyard seemed to be home to an outside kitchen area as well as a craftsman area. A baked clay oven and a grinding floor for grain were located on the left side of the yard, while instruments to make pottery and other wares dominated the right side. To the right of the door Téa just stepped through were two average size doors attached to the side of the house leading downward into an underground storage area.

Thema directed Téa to the kitchen area, helping her sit on a small stool found there and began to soothe her cries. "There, there, it'll all be alright, just you wait and see." Thema walked away shortly to retrieve something, returning to hand Téa a small clay pot with some sort of colored drink within it. Téa looked inquiringly up at Thema, who only grinned, saying, "Drink it. It'll make you feel better. Promise."

Téa raised an eyebrow suspiciously for a moment before shrugging and taking a big gulp of the drink. The taste that hit her mouth was unpleasant at best, the liquid slightly burning her throat as it went down. Coughing slightly, she held the drink out in front of her as if it were diseased, stuttering, "Wh-what---" coughing interrupted her briefly, "is this?"

"Why, it's beer, of course! Egypt's finest as a matter of fact."

"Really? And this is supposed to make me feel better?"

"All alcoholic drinks make people feel better, if drunk in moderation. This will help you loosen up a bit but not get you _too _loose, I promise. I guess you're not a big beer drinker from your reaction." Even though it was a statement, Téa shook her head in the negative. "Well, it's the most widely used drink here, I'm afraid, besides water, of course. Drink. You'll get used to the taste eventually. You may find that you like it when all's said and done."

"I doubt it." But all the same, Téa continued to drink anyway. She was loathe to admit it, but the more she drank, the more pleasant the drink became. A slight numbing sensation began to grip her limbs. When she asked if this was normal, Thema only laughed and commented on how weak of an alcohol tolerance she had. Téa didn't feel the need to be offended by that; after all, it was hard to build up a tolerance about something she hadn't experienced before. She wondered how Honda and Jonouchi would react to her drinking something like beer, not to mention Yugi! She wondered if Yami would disapprove or think it natural as he was an Egyptian himself. Strange how the thoughts of them didn't leave her nearly as sad as before; she certainly didn't feel the need to sob tragically. She guessed the beer was doing its job.

"Finished?" Téa nodded, handing the cup back to Thema. She moved to place it in the basket by the front door; everything put there would be taken in the morning to be washed in the Nile. "Are you hungry, Téana? Would you like me to cook you something? It's no trouble at all I assure you. It's about time for me to prepare dinner for my husband and myself, anyway; he's due back soon."

"Aren't I kind of invading your home? I don't want to be a burden to anyone. I mean, I don't even have the means to pay you for your kindness, and---"

"Téana," Thema interrupted sternly but not unkindly, "if I didn't want you in my house, you wouldn't be here in the first place. Besides, where have you to go? You said yourself that you have no contacts here, and I can tell you now that not all of Egypt is as kind as I am. I see no reason why you can't stay here until you can get back on your feet, as we have plenty of room to spare. I'm sure my husband won't mind, and something can be worked out if you really wish to pay us back for our kindness. There are all kinds of jobs to be done around here, even a trip to the market in my place while I tidy up the house would be a big help to me. So, don't worry about it. Don't worry about anything right now, except what you would like to eat."

Téa marveled at the compassion of this woman, her sapphire eyes shining with wonder and thankfulness. "Thank you, truly. I-I don't know what to say.... But, if it's alright with you, I think I'll wait until your husband arrives before I eat. It's only polite, and I'm sure anything you make will be fine. To be honest, I think I'm too tired to even lift a spoon to my lips, anyway."

Thema smiled sadly, sympathy lighting her features. "In that case, why don't you go inside and take a rest. One of the rooms we passed is a guest bedroom; it's rarely used, but I think you'll like it. You probably don't know this, but usually, we---that is, Egyptians---sleep outside during the night because it's a lot cooler. It's why our roofs are flat. In fact, most of our life is spent outside, so I suggest you get used to it, Trojan," she ended on a teasing note.

"Are you serious? You actually sleep outside? On the roof?"

"Hmm, sleep, eat, lounge. As I said, it's cooler than the walls of the house; they trap heat, you see. Besides, you get the most gorgeous view of the stars at night right before you go to sleep. I'm sure you can appreciate that."

"It's sounds really nice... But, why are you giving me a bed, inside, now?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, dear, but it's horrendously hot out here, not to mention the sun would probably blind you senseless if you tried to go up on the roof now to sleep. And, anyway, have you looked at yourself lately? I don't think the reddening of that fair skin of yours has been caused by the drink... You've been sunburned quite a bit. It'll be better for you if you rest up now."

Téa hadn't really noticed the effect the sun was having on her skin, but a quick inspection of herself showed her how right Thema's observation was. The brunette groaned in discomfort, apprehensive of the pain that would no doubt accompany the burn. She gave one last tired smile to Thema before she ventured back into the house alone. She didn't spend much time looking at the decor of the house---that could be done later. A bed sounded much more appealing at the moment. She found the room in no time at all, and even though the sheets were a lot thinner and coarser than what she was used to, she immediately knew that she would have no use for them. It was already warm enough in the house. Kicking off her platform shoes, grimacing as she felt rather than saw the sores that had developed on her feet, she plopped down on the bed in exhaustion, asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. And although her nap would be peaceful and replenishing to her body, her mind would be tested as she was greeted with a different kind of vision that would develop as many questions as it answered.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, what a hit this was. Seriously, once I really buckled down and started writing this, the words practically flew onto the word processor! Haha. I hope you have enjoyed this. Once again, everything here is as historically accurate as I could make it. I researched A LOT for this one... For more info, please review the notes I've asterisked, and as always REVIEW!**

***Services and commodities: At the time of 3000 B.C., no one had currency...anywhere. There was no real form of money established because it was usually too cumbersome to handle. Therefore, money would not have been offered as a means of reward for anything. Not a job, not a loan, not even for turning in dangerous criminals. Instead, people bargained and traded with what they had whether it be a type of good, like grain, or with a service, such as hunting. If someone managed to capture Bakura or Malik, I imagine they would be rewarded with whatever thing they wished, whether it be jewels, game, other types of food, tools, a nicer house, a slave to do the toiling in the field, etc. Also, the coins that Malik gave Téa wouldn't have any value as a currency, either. They would only have value for being made of gold, which she could barter with if she so chose.**

***On the use of English as a language: I may not know history like the back of my hand, but trust me, I know a thing or two about English. I know for a fact that English didn't give rise until the early A.D. years, and that was Old English which barely resembles what is spoken now. At the time of this story, the main languages spoken are Greek, Latin, Babylonian, Egyptian, and Bantu, and those are just the ones I know about. I am trying to portray what would be the language Téa would most likely know as her second. English is heavily stressed in Japanese schools. Many learn it from a young age. I felt that, while it would be nice, it would be highly unlikely that Téa would have learned Latin at a young age. Most of the time, that is a language one studies through alternative schooling, like college or university. Very rarely is it offered for study at the middle and high school levels, which kinda sucks, in my opinion. If you know Latin, then most of the time you can grasp every basic meaning of nearly every English word ever... If my use of English in this fashion particularly bothers you for historical accuracies' sake, then I apologize. It's the only choice I'm comfortable with justifying, but don't worry. It won't be used for too long.**

***Seth: This refers to the god, not the priest and Seto's past life, by the way.**

***Téana introduction: That whole little section was basically the first lines I thought of for this story. It spawned it, I guess you could say. The use of this name is also why I chose to use Téa instead of Anzu. Just a little fun fact for you.**


	6. Ch 6: Oracle

**A/N: Hello again, everyone! Alright, I won't lie and say that I am not disappointed by the lack of reviews last chapter (only two! I was so hoping that it would increase!), but I have shaken it off and decided to just push on and deliver the next chapter. Because, obviously, just because people aren't reviewing doesn't mean they aren't reading, and the ones who are doing both deserve to be rewarded! So, let's continue onward!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh, or any mentions of the shows Heroes and Johnny Quest (you'll see.) If I did, Malik, Bakura, and Sylar would each be chained to a bed somewhere, I'm just saying. ...But, alas... I do however own all of my original characters no matter how insignificant or important. If, for any reason, you wish to use any of them, I would appreciate if you would just ask me first. Thanks much!**

**A special shout out to Reviewers: Merciless Ruby and the-writing-vampire. An especially huge THANK YOU to Merciless Ruby. You have been with me since the beginning, and I feel so incredibly awestruck at your continued following for my story. If I ever did get ahold of Malik or Bakura, I would make sure to chain them somewhere for you first. Haha.**

**By the way, I still have a poll going on my profile, and I would really appreciate it if I got some more feedback on it if you have not done so already.**

**Now, onto the chapter! **

* * *

Ch. 6: Oracle

The sun was beginning to set in the West, appearing to sink and vanish into the sea that stretched out along the shore. The sky gave off a vast spectrum of color, being bright yellow, orange, and red around the source of the light, while shades of periwinkle, aquamarine, blue, purple, and navy painted the atmosphere the farther away from the sun one looked. From this side of the world, stars were starting to blink weakly into sight while a half-moon hung serenely in the air. Twilight.

The waves of the Mediterranean were noticeably rougher, larger, and more forceful due to the presence of the moon as they crashed into the shore, dampening the sand and leaving behind small seashells with every motion, some being pulled back into the water with the tide, some not. Sea foam sprayed delicately into the air, moistening it and adding to the cooling temperatures.

If they _were_ cooling, that is.

Téa currently sat viewing the whole breathtaking scene before her on a large slab of rock that was situated resolutely on the beach, having been smoothed out from the decades it had no doubt spent being underwater before. Several others like it, albeit mostly smaller, could be found at various points on the shore. A steep incline of sand blocked further observation of the beach behind her; from her vantage point, all she could see was the sea, the sky, and the flat bit of shore that expanded on either side of her.

But, that seemed to be all that was working for her: sight and hearing. For she could see everything before her in such sharp clarity that she could have sworn her eyesight had jumped from being perfect 20/20 to high-definition. Colors seemed brighter, more focused. Almost surreal. Her sense of hearing was similar. She could hear everything around her flawlessly, even picking up on the movements of a small crab scuttling frantically to get back into the protection of the water from halfway down the beach.

Her sense of feeling, though, seemed to have taken a holiday as well as her sense of smell. The salty air that she _knew_ went hand-in-hand gloriously with any sea had seemingly abandoned her. She could feel no cooling moisture in the air, or feel the failing heat of the setting sun, nor detect the crisp air of oncoming night. The stone beneath her had no texture to it whenever her skin fell against it, and she didn't know if it was warm, cold, or damp from the water around it. Her own skin seemed strangely disconnected to her, the hair that draped down her neck to brush her shoulders, nonexistent.

Taste she didn't bother with since she subconsciously knew that there was no use for it here. She also, without really understanding how or why, knew that she was there for a reason. Waiting for someone.

She didn't know who yet, but then again, she did.

Dreams were confusing like that. Téa, however, was beginning to question if this was even a dream at all, the second she did so giving her her answer.

When someone is dreaming, they never question it. They simply go through the motions the dream puts before them with all the feelings and sensations attached to it until they either reach a happy or acceptable ending, experience a feeling of falling, get killed, or become disturbed from the dream. The fact that she could barely feel anything, was questioning whether she was dreaming or not, and had already tried to wake herself up without success proved to her that what she was currently experiencing wasn't her mind's fantasies at all.

In her opinion, these visions were really starting to become bothersome, but she was at least thankful that this one appeared to be much less violent than the ones she had grown accustomed to over the past few days. She hoped it would last but wouldn't deny that her impatience was steadily growing with every second something _didn't_ happen. What was it waiting for? Was she supposed to do something? She was just about to slide off the rock and begin walking barefoot across the beach until she met up with something, _anything_, but the moment she started to move forward, a voice spoke out from behind her. It sounded, if anything, amused and incredibly young.

"If you have time to be impatient, then you also have time to be patient, Téa."

Said girl whipped her whole torso around, wincing slightly as her neck cracked at her too sudden movement, while she looked all around her to find...nothing.

Téa furrowed her brows in confusion and nearly began to question her sanity when she felt something gently tug her shorts from behind her, her legs still dangling down the rock. Turning quickly back around to her previous position, the dancer looked out and then down to finally give an image to the childlike voice.

By what she could tell, it was a young boy around maybe seven or eight with tanned skin. He wore black, baggy capris pants and a dark purple, almost indigo, sleeveless jacket that hosted a variety of strange black designs that Téa couldn't identify. Some of his face was cast in shadow, and Téa couldn't make out his hair or eyes due to the hood that covered them. He was also barefoot.

The brunette had so many questions she wanted to ask. Who was he? Why was she here? _How _was she here? Was any of it for real or not? What did her visions mean, and why were they sent to her? Who was the man in them? Were he and the man she had run into earlier that day really one in the same, or was it something deeper, more sinister? She had all these meaningful, essential questions about her future and this strange past she found herself in, poised, ready and waiting, to be said and have answered. Unfortunately, the most eloquent thing that first filtered through her brain to pass her lips was, "Why are you that short?"

Téa didn't need any extra help in berating herself when she finally grasped what she had said, stunned. _Please take foot and shove in mouth. Try not to swallow it down, hun!_ she thought, briefly marveling how her inner voice sounded suspiciously like Mai. _I mean, really, how is it possible that I insult the one person that could help and solve all my problems in an instant if he wanted to? Someone up there must really hate me..._

She needn't have worried, though, for a moment after she said her potentially insulting statement, the boy began to laugh in merriment, slightly surprised by Téa's outburst but not at all offended. Téa relaxed minutely as she realized that she hadn't completely screwed herself over yet. When the boy caught his breath, he smiled charmingly. "I expected you to ask me about my appearance, but I didn't think that'd be the first question on your mind." Téa had the grace to blush in embarrassment. "I guess you expected an oracle like myself to be a bit more impressive? It's ok, you can admit it. I won't get mad. Promise." He paused, actually waiting expectantly for an answer. Téa swallowed nervously.

"Well, yeah, I suppose I was expecting...something. I've read too many folk legends about this kind of thing, so it's probably no wonder that my imagination got the better of me."

"Yeah, I knew it," the boy stated, somewhat snootily as kids had the tendency to do at times. "I told you so, but like I promised, I'm not mad. See? The truth is, I could have taken any form I wanted, but this one seemed the most appropriate."

"Why is that?" Téa inquired curiously. The boy plaited his hands behind his head and grinned indulgently.

"I'm not telling."

Anticlimactic was almost the word to describe how deflated and dissatisfied the brunette became at that answer. She guessed that since this oracle really had taken the form of a seven year-old boy, then it must have taken on all the bratty characteristics of one, too, despite its advanced vocabulary. In that respect it had both adult and childlike mannerisms. It was a strange thing to witness.

All amusement aside, the boy lowered his arms back down to his side and gave Téa a genuine smile. "You know, we've barely talked, and already I know I chose the right person for this. You really know how to exceed expectations, Miss Gardner."

Téa really didn't know the appropriate way to respond to that, so instead she focused on the crucial little detail of information he had let slip. "About that...you chose me for _what_ exactly?"

"To save the world," the oracle responded, as if he were merely suggesting reasons to favor one brand of cereal over another. Téa believed at that moment that her brain nearly short-circuited.

"_What?_"

"Well, actually, it's not really like you have the lives of every living being in your hands. Well, you do, but not in the way you're probably thinking. You really just have the life of one person in your hands, or rather his soul. If you can save that, then by default, you save the world. Do you get it? Haha! Hey! It's kind of like that popular television show in your time...uh..._Heroes_, right?" During his whole speech, the boy had proceeded to walk away from her to plop down on a smaller rock that sat a decent distance away from her own. Due to the superior hearing that this plane of existence provided, though, she had no trouble hearing him, nor he her. Therefore, it was simple enough for Téa to come to her newest conclusion.

_This...this _thing! _It's all completely insane!_

"Aw, now, Téa," the boy pouted, "don't think like that. It might hurt my feelings. And I thought we were hitting it off so well..."

"Yo-You..." the azure-eyed girl stuttered, taken completely off-guard. "You can hear my thoughts?"

"Hmm, yes, your mind and mine have been connected for a few days now. I thought it would be the best way to keep track of you and help you if you got into trouble. And to answer your next question, yes, that voice you've been hearing in your head all this time has been me."

Téa was disturbingly unnerved. To her, the mind was a very private place, perhaps one of the only ones still left in the world she lived in. The thought of it being as easy to open and look through as a photo album left her to be greatly disconcerted. It seemed to her to be a great violation, especially to do so without permission. The boy frowned suddenly as if he sensed her apprehension.

"Don't worry, ok? I agree also that a person's mind can be their greatest sanctuary. It should never be defiled in all the ways that you are currently thinking. If it puts you at ease, I promise that, unless the situation desperately calls for it, I won't go any farther than the very surface. I will only pick up on the most forefront of your thoughts and will only see images of your memory if one happens to be particularly strong to you. Promise!"

Téa nodded slowly, the knowledge still sinking in. "That's--that's fine. I just wasn't expecting it. Um, how long do you think we will have to have this...mental bond?"

"Until you no longer need me."

"Meaning?" But the boy merely smiled at her and said nothing.

Téa huffed in frustration. So far, none of her questions were really being answered. They all only led to another question! And this boy wasn't helping matters at all! Téa had the sneaking suspicion that he was being vague on purpose, and it was really starting to irritate her.

"Look, uh--well, I really don't know what to call you but look! I am sitting on a very thin line between playing calm and absolutely panicking. If you really have been in my head all this time, then I don't really need to explain what all has happened to me emotionally, mentally, and physically for the past couple of days. If you came here to just mess around with me, then, with all due respect, just piss off! I really don't need any extra help in freaking myself out, thank you, so if you are actually here to help me, then please, do so!"

By the end of her outburst, Téa was left breathless with how quickly she had expressed herself, her voice rising steadily with every sentence and her body becoming very tense with stress. The boy sat there and took everything in unflinchingly. Then, he tilted his head down as if in shame and gave a sad, little smile.

"I've never had a name," he began in a remorseful tone, not because of his admission but because of the distress he had caused his charge. "For all manner and purposes, though, you can call me Haji---"

He broke off when he heard a little surprised chuckle of mirth come from Téa, who couldn't help but remember an image of a similar tanned boy wearing a turban from a television show she used to watch as a kid. The boy brightened a little as he saw the image, too, due to his connection with Téa. "Yeah, I thought you might appreciate that, and I'm sorry if I hurt you with my teasing. I thought that kind of carefree attitude would put you at ease seeing as how you are so used to it from some of your close friends, but I can see now that it doesn't mean the same coming from me. But, yes, there _is_ a purpose to why I brought you here, both in this vision and into the past. Besides wanting to formally meet you, I also wanted you to be able to put a name and a face to this strange being you keep hearing in your head, instead of you thinking that you're going crazy. I figured that it would be easier for you to start trusting me that way. However, why don't we start properly with those visions I sent you in your sleep? Everything will make much more sense that way.

"As I said before in my message to you, that vision is the near future of your time. It _will_ come to pass if you fail to save him or if I had chosen to do nothing and let events occur naturally. The man in the vision, his name is Marik. Essentially, he is the dark side of an Egyptian named Malik Ishtar---before you ask, yes, Ishizu Ishtar is his sister---and Marik was born through Malik's rage, hatred, and hopelessness. It was not a conscious decision to create him on Malik's part; indeed, I doubt he ever knew that he had a dark force living inside of him until it was too late. However, Ishizu was always aware of it; that's who she was warning you and the Pharaoh about when you all met at the museum."

"Then, that also makes him the last Millennium Item holder, right?" Téa asked, actually taking all this information in rather well.

"Yes. If you remember from your dreams, it is the golden rod he wielded, the one with a dagger in it."

"Oh. Yes," Téa swallowed thickly at the horrible memories that were brought up at the mention of the dagger, "yes, I remember that perfectly. What kind of power does it have?"

"Anyone who touches it is subject to its power and the whims of the wielder. Malik uses it to filter through and control a person's mind, and seeing as how the mind controls the body..."

Téa nodded. "He can control their actions also. That is a terrible power." She shuddered at the thought of having absolutely no control over her own actions, her own thoughts. It was a frightening realization to her. "So, that man I ran into today, that was Malik?"

Haji's face scrunched up in thought. "Well, yes and no. How can I explain this without it being too confusing? The Malik of this time is his past life, meaning that the one in your time is a reincarnation. They are different in mannerisms due to the quality of their past, but their main goal is the same: they each have a vendetta against the Pharaoh and want to see it fulfilled. You with me so far?"

"It makes sense, yes. What is this vendetta they wish to carry out?"

"That, Téa," stated Haji meaningfully, "is what you must find out on your own. It is part of your journey, and I'm afraid it's the one answer I cannot give you. You see, something will happen in this time, something that will affect the Ishtar family for millennia to come, and it must be prevented."

The dancer sighed sadly. "This is only going to get more complicated, isn't it?" Haji laughed humorlessly.

"I'm afraid so. This mission is why I sent you here to 1000 B.C.. It will help you to better understand the situation that will await you when you return to the present. If you are able to change what occurs here in the past, then you'll come to find that your future will be much brighter. But, back on the topic of past lives, there is something I think you need to know." Téa sat up intently as Haji contemplated his next words. "You will meet many people in this time who you know from your present. By no means are you to tell them anything about their future-selves, and you also must _never _let them become aware of who you are or where, or should I say, _when_ you come from. The consequences of which could be...severe."

"I understand," Téa declared gravely before she lightened up to give a small, light laugh. "I guess my alias, Téana, isn't as bad as I first thought it was, huh?" Haji grinned knowingly.

"Yes, you've made an excellent cover for yourself. When you return to the present, some of your friends will probably have memories of Téana, who you can simply claim is your past life. You and I, of course, will know otherwise." The hooded young boy gave the appearance of looking at Téa thoughtfully (his lips were pursed in thought, at any rate) before he made his decision to humor some of the inquires he knew she wanted to make but was too hesitant to give voice to. "You're wondering who you will see here that you know." It was not a question. "Well, let's see, you may run into Ishizu. In this time, she is a high priestess of the Pharaoh named Isis. Seto Kaiba also shares a past life of a high priest named Seth---"

"Kaiba! Are you serious! _He_ has a past life, Mr. I-don't-believe-in-anything-I-can't-put-logic-and-science-to?" Téa was torn between abject disbelief and just outright laughing at the irony of it all.

"And, as a high priest to boot. Don't forget that," Haji supplied helpfully, mischievously.

"Oh, no problem, there's no way I'm forgetting that little tidbit of information in a million years," she smirked before becoming thoughtful again. _I guess that explains what he was doing on that tablet in the museum._ And thinking of that tablet jolted her into remembering just _who_ was Pharaoh during this time.

"Yami! What about him? Oh, but wait, he has a name in this time, right? He's not just the Nameless Pharaoh anymore!" exclaimed Téa excitedly. If she could find out what his name was, when she returned she could tell him, and then he wouldn't have to feel quite so lost anymore. He'd have a starting point to the rest of his memories!

Haji crossed his arms in front of him, the very definition of relaxed as he replied to her revelation, "Ah, I was wondering when the person of your undying affections would be brought up." He grinned like a fool as soon as Téa flushed furiously and began sputtering out her denials, which he only tuned out. "I didn't mention him before because he doesn't have a past life. Oh, no, no, he doesn't. You see, in order for someone to be reincarnated, they have to die, right? Well, Yami achieved that with flying colors. However, his spirit never moved on to be reborn. As you know, he has been trapped in the Millennium Puzzle for three-thousand years sans any memories of his past. It is the same with Bakura, the dark spirit that resides in your friend Ryou's Millennium Ring. If you happen to see either of them, and I believe that you will, they will be the same people you know in the present. However, just because they are the same, do not for a minute think that they will behave the same way as you remember."

"Why do you say that?" replied Téa uncertainly.

"Because they will not know you at all. They will treat you differently. Having memories does that to a person; they dictate how you are supposed or are expected to act. Just...keep an open mind, figuratively, of course, and don't be surprised if it seems that your friends are becoming your enemies, and your enemies your friends."

At Haji's warning, Téa reviewed all the information he had given her with a solemn air, her eyes glazed over as she stared unseeingly at the sand on the shore._ So, this is really happening, then. I haven't been imagining this for all this time... It's real, and if I mess up... Well, let's not think about that, girl!_

"So, ok," Téa stated gradually, "let me see if I have all this straight. This guy, Malik, his soul will in all probability be lost to his dark side unless I step in and stop whatever horrible event that happened in his past. However, I'm guessing that this event, whatever it is, transcends throughout the ages seeing as how it begins here in this time. That's why you sent me to the past. So, basically, I need to, what exactly? Find him and get close to him, then interfere accordingly?"

"That is precisely what you need to do," said Haji with authority. "Although, I don't really think the 'getting close to him' part of the plan will be as difficult as the doubtful tone in your voice implies. From my perspective, it looks as if he likes you plenty already." The boy smiled wickedly to see Téa's face redden once more, though whether it was from anger or embarrassment was difficult to say. In all honesty, she had been trying very hard to put the memory of him practically assaulting her against a wall completely out of her mind. It had made her feel and think things that she neither felt comfortable with nor wanted to attempt to identify in the slightest. After all, the only thing she had known about him then was that he was going to kill everyone she cared about in her future and possibly kill her as well, or worse, enslave her. Having any other feelings for him besides loathing was unacceptable, but she knew she would have to put that aside eventually if she was going to succeed. She was stubborn, though, and was having a rough time coming to terms with the fact that she would have to make nice with him at some point. Being the type of person she was, however, she knew that she would make every effort to be his friend when the time really came down to it. Getting there and actually doing it was what she was having trouble picturing right now.

"How will I find him, then?" asked Téa, deciding to avoid Haji's observation altogether. "I mean, Egypt is a fairly large place, and it's not like I can look him up in the Yellow Pages or something. I don't have a lot of people that are willing to help me here, either."

"All of this is true," Haji remarked affirmatively, "so I guess it's really fortunate that you have found yourself in the home and good graces of the one family in all of Egypt that _will_ help you." The boy slid off the rock, his feet thumping softly in the sand, and walked the distance back to where Téa remained sitting on her rock. Standing beside her, he leaned his back against the rock and looked out towards the ocean. "I knew that they were our best bet; it only worked out too well that you happened to stumble across the woman so soon. That's why I pressed you to speak English to her. It wasn't just because of your feelings of loneliness; I knew she would understand, and that it would provide a bonding point for the both of you. Why don't we see what dear Thema is up to now, shall we?"

And Haji waved his hands lazily to the ocean water before him then made a rising, lifting motion with his hands. The water began mimicking his movements and before long, enough water had risen to twist and turn into a large circle in midair, a very thin sheen of water comprising the center of the circle like a mirror. As the setting sun (which Téa suddenly realized had been setting for sometime now. It seemed that while everything on the surface of the earth was still moving, the sky had been left in something like suspended animation) reflected its light on the water, the mirror-like surface flashed suddenly in a whirlwind of light and color before finally rippling out into a familiar scene. With a jolt, Téa realized that it was the outdoor courtyard area Thema had led her to earlier when she was trying to calm her down. All the chairs and stools had been moved to the side to give her more room to cook, and it seemed that the grinding floor had been used recently given the amount of wheat that still littered the surface. Thema herself was currently bent over a decent sized yet contained fire stirring what appeared to be some sort of soup in a large, cooper bowl that was held up by a sophisticated layout of wood wrapped together by a strong thread. Nodding her head in satisfaction, Thema hung the spoon she was using to stir the soup on a small branch that jutted out for such a purpose before moving over to two large earthen bowls, one containing fresh water, the other a variety of fresh fruit. Immediately, she started washing the fruit in the water one by one, starting with dates and figs before moving to the more familiar fruits of grapes, watermelon chunks, and pomegranates.

"Thema is a very kind woman," observed Haji. "Thoughtful, generous, funny, compassionate. But despite the fact that she can be very astute, her kindness is often taken advantage of by others. Instead of taking it personally, though, she is happy that other people's needs are being seen to, even if it does mean that she gets cheated in the process. Her husband," he waved his hand and the scene changed to what seemed to be two men negotiating in hushed tones in a small room somewhere that was closed off from the streets outside, "is much the same way, except he makes every effort possible to assure the safety of his family. That is always first and foremost on his mind." Haji removed his eyes from the scene---as he could see through the thin material that made up his hood, though no one could see him---to consider Téa appraisingly.

"You are not the first person they have welcomed into their home," the boy declared lowly, significantly. "They are sympathetic to those who are in desperate need of shelter and who can assure that they mean no harm. They take in strays and outsiders of society. This includes thieves that are in need to hide out from the law, even though if they were found, it would put them at great personal risk themselves. Malik just so happens to be one of these thieves, a single member of a noteworthily large band of them, and while I doubt that he personally would seek sanctuary with any civilian, there is a great chance that another member of the same band would. Should that happen, you need to make contact with him or her and do all that is reasonable to join them."

"_Join_ them?" Téa exclaimed, shocked. "As in _become_ one of them? You don't really believe that I could become a thief, do you, especially since stealing goes against my personal beliefs? Besides," she added derisively, "I'm hardly what you could define as _cutthroat._"

"Trust me, I've noticed," Haji laughed. "There are other jobs you can provide to the group instead of going with them to pillage some town, though---"

"I am _not_ sleeping with any of them."

"I wasn't even thinking anywhere close to that!" cried Haji before adding in an undertone, "Although, I'm sure some of them probably _would_ think that..." In a normal tone of voice, he contributed, "I was thinking more along the lines of doing maybe some household things for them. You know, cooking, cleaning, and the like. And do _not_ give me that look! It's not my fault that those are the normal tasks expected of women nowadays, despite the equality offered by this place. I'm sure if you wanted to do something else, something crazy, like learn how to wield a weapon or something that they would teach you. It only makes sense for all of their members to be able to defend themselves, after all."

"Yeah, I guess," conceded Téa grudgingly, though the thought of being able to duel with a sword did intrigue her slightly. "Fine, I'll do all that I can, but I expect you to help me out with this! Somehow I doubt that they'd trust me enough right from the beginning to just allow me to waltz happily-as-you-please into their gang."

"Of course." Haji thought briefly about informing Téa on the use of magic in this place, but quickly decided against it. He didn't really know why he wanted to keep her in the dark about this, but somehow he thought it would be more rewarding for her to find out on her own that the insanely popular card game she knew in her time was actually real in this one. He had to hold back a snort of laughter as he pictured the look on her face if she happened to see a Black Magician or a Blue-Eyes White Dragon conjured in the flesh right before her. That would be priceless!

"I just have one major question to ask of you, then I think I'll be satisfied." Téa's timid voice broke him out of his humorous musings, and with some effort, he focused all of his attention on her.

"Ask it."

"What exactly would happen if I..." Téa trailed off as her throat closed suddenly on her, choking on her words. "What will happen if--if I die here?" The thought was so terrifying that she didn't know if she truly wanted her question answered or not.

"You don't have to worry about that," affirmed Haji earnestly. "Be assured that everything that needs to be done to ensure your protection _is _being done."

"But still, what if I---"

"_You won't._"

Haji's voice was so firm and unyielding in that promise that Téa allowed a small smile to creep onto her lips, actually letting herself believe what he said.

"Thank you."

All was silent between the two new allies for several minutes as they both just gazed out into the horizon, Haji motioning to lower the gravity-defying water back into its proper place in the Mediterranean. He was the first to break the silence.

"You still have questions you want to ask me. Just go ahead and do it. While you are still in this state of unconsciousness, it is the easiest way for us both to communicate with each other."

The brunette shook her head in amusement; she thought she was hiding her curiosity so well. "Well, I now know why you have sent me back, I just have no idea _how_. It doesn't really matter, I suppose, but I can't deny that I'm curious. I'm more worried that I'll annoy you with my inquisitiveness than anything; it's one of my worst faults."

Haji smiled. "Not at all, it's fine. ...You could say that it's just a talent I have. We otherworldly beings don't really have a sense of time. Not oracles, not angels, not God. You humans can only look back and go forward on your own, making Time appear to only be a straight line. We, however, we can look forward and back, _move_ forward and back whenever we wish, so Time is really more of a spiral for us. It is through that privilege that I have been able to allow you to traverse into the past. Therefore, I cannot help but say that any warnings I give you... You must follow them to the letter, unquestioningly. Time is a very serious instrument; attempting to change anything that has already transpired cannot only be dangerous, it can be catastrophic if handled incorrectly. You can imagine just how many people have been given the chance to go back and change things. Let's just say that your hands are more than enough to use to count them, and absolutely none of them have had the desire to write a book about it."

"That bad of an experience, huh?"

"It's a double-edged sword, to be sure."

"But why do you care? I mean, why does the fate of humanity really matter to you? None of our actions affect you, after all."

Haji's mouth turned up fondly. "A good question. What you say is true, I won't be affected no matter what happens, but the fact is I have always been deeply sympathetic to humankind. No matter how unreasonable, I care for all of you, and the future I have seen, the future controlled by Marik... Well, let's just say, no matter all of your faults, all of your crimes, absolutely none of you deserve the hell on earth that will await you if he succeeds."

Téa stared at Haji in wonder for a long moment, so long that she didn't notice how her surroundings were changing around her until Haji said something.

"It seems as if you are coming back into consciousness. I guess this is where we leave off for now."

"But--but wait! What if I need you? What if I have questions? Ugh..._more_ questions, rather," Téa was fighting with all she had to stay in this realm of existence, this realm where things were starting to make sense, but it was a losing battle. All she could see before her was a fading white mist with Haji's voice ringing out faintly in the background. Just as she opened her eyes to see Thema smiling kindly down at her, telling her that her husband had arrived home and dinner was almost ready, she could barely make out Haji's last words to her.

"If you really need me," Haji's smile was in his voice, "all you have to do is ask, and I'll be there. Don't worry, though! You'll be fine. You have all my knowledge at your disposal to save all of mankind. ....But no pressure!"

* * *

**A/N: Haji really is an Egyptian name. No lie. It means "born during the pilgrimage." I really had no prior knowledge to the fake name I would give the oracle, but as soon as I saw that one, I could not stop smiling or resist putting it. I hope that this chapter filled in some holes for you guys. I promise that there is a lot more action to come and that Téa and Malik will meet again soon under very different circumstances.**

**What to look forward to next chapter: Téa will learn more about the typical life of an Egyptian family as well as to the true reason why Thema and her husband are so willing to shelter outlaws from justice. Also, we'll flip back over to Malik's point of view and discover just what Bakura has planned for the Pharaoh. And....probably something else, but I'm not feeling very up to sharing right now, so... :P Haha.**

**Please, ****_please_, PLEASE Review and tell me what you think or would like to see!**


	7. Ch 7: Lifestyles

**A/N: I'm a bad authoress, huh? It's been since late July that I updated this, right? Wow, I am sorry. Truly I am, but life has been very involved lately. Well, not life so much as college. Trust me, though, this story is still running strong for me; I just need more time to actually write. I wish they would make something I could just attach to my brain and have it type down what I think. Sadly, though, that kind of ingenuity is being spent instead on crashing things into the moon. Poor moon. This chapter is for you!**

**Thank you to Reviewers: PrincessOfHeartsNYP, Merciless Ruby, dearjenna, angelmusic848, and Ra'iira The Fiend. You guys rock and me love you long time!**

**Thank you to those who Favorited/Story Alerted: Dawn17, Ra'iira The Fiend, Suseh, kuroneko1571, Mizuki Hikari, and Silver-Heart377. You all are amazing, too! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh. I'm gonna watch some Heroes to make me feel better, which I also, by the way, don't own. Bummer.**

* * *

Ch. 7: Lifestyles

"Were you dreaming, dear?" asked Thema as she seated herself on the bed next to Téa, facing her with a smile as she watched the young woman struggle to wake from her deep slumber.

Téa was caught a bit off guard at the observation but hid it well as she scooted herself up into a sitting position. "Uh, well, sort of I think you could say. How did you know?"

"You were mumbling a bit in your sleep. Telling someone not to go, it sounded like. A nightmare? Or just a bad memory?" she inquired kindly.

"I can't really remember what it was about now," Téa replied hurriedly, with feelings of guilt at the lie. Thema was too good of a person to lie to, though Téa had no doubts that many people did to get what they wanted from her. It made her miserable to think that she had just added herself to that list of despicable people, but she pushed those feelings back when she realized how necessary it was. She couldn't very well say that some all-powerful oracle had sought her out to undertake a Super-Secret-But-Of-The-Upmost-Importance-Mission-To-Save-All-Humanity and that they had just been strategy planning about it. Well, she could, but who would ever believe her? "That happens to me a lot, though. Only on certain occasions do I remember my dreams. Did I hear you say something before? I was still half-asleep when you came in, so I'm not sure if I imagined you speaking or not."

"I just said that my husband, Jabari, is home and that I'm almost finished with supper if you want any. I also came to bring you this." At this point, Thema raised her hand that had been positioned in her lap to produce a small pottery bowl with an unattached lid. Téa took it gently into her hands, fearing to break it if she dropped it, and fixed Thema with a questioning look. "It's a burn ointment. For your skin. I noticed earlier how red your skin has become when I came to check up on you a little after you began sleeping. For someone as fair as you, the sun did quick work and heavy damage in no time at all it seems. The ointment will soothe the burns and hopefully prevent you from peeling. A good thing, seeing as how you'll need to become darker-skinned if you wish to spend a lot of time outside with no repercussions."

"Really? It's that bad?" And wasting no more time, Téa moved to inspect herself, first noticing how the whole front of her arms sported a newly-acquired red tinge to them and traveled all the way up to her shoulders. The damage there was really bad, or at least it looked it. The skin on her shoulders was the brightest red she'd ever seen them, surpassing the color of a lobster although she suspected that it would feel just as clammy as one. Reaching gingerly up to her right shoulder, she gradually tried to peel back the edge of the sleeveless shirt to see how far the burn had spread, giving a wince and a hiss of pain as her nails grazed it. Not only did her skin feel blistery, but it also radiated with heat; she could tell that without even touching it. Her neck had been protected by her hair and her collared shirt, thankfully, but she knew that her face and a few parts of her upper back weren't nearly as lucky. Her legs, too, had been spared due to her shorts and long stockings.

_Well, thank God for small mercies, I guess! _Téa groaned aloud, alerting Thema to come to her aid.

"I can help you apply it, if you like? At least, on your back, at any rate."

"Thema," the dancer sighed, "that sounds wonderful. Thank you." The weary girl removed the lid and withdrew a finger full of the light green, surprisingly cool salve, handing the bowl off to Thema who took a more generous amount as she had more surface area to cover. Bringing it close to her face, Téa was amazed at the slight rose fragrance that came from it. She gently applied it to her face, obtaining more from Thema when she had rubbed her last finger full in. She felt no discomfort as Thema carefully rubbed the burned places on her back, a skill Téa wished she had somehow been granted with as she started on her shoulders. They were far more tender than what she expected, so any slight miscalculation on her part sent a throng of pain through her upper body. She refused to let any sound of pain escape her, though, both because she didn't want to alarm Thema and because her pride would not allow it. Therefore, she settled for gritting her teeth. After her arms were cared for, the torture (on her part) finally ended, and Thema arose from the bed and handed the ointment back to her charge.

"You'll need to apply that at least three times a day, dear, or at least until the pain fades. Then, you can start reducing how often you use it. Once you're sure you won't peel, then you're probably in the clear." As she spoke, Thema rested her hands on her hips, a gesture that reminded Téa so much of her mother that she couldn't help but smile fondly. "What's with the look, Téana?"

Téa's smile only widened at that and she shook her head in response. "It's nothing, Thema. Just... Has anyone ever told you how awesome you are?"

"Awesome?"

"Yeah, you know, uh...amazing. Incredible. Awe-inspiring?"

Thema fixed her with a level look, stating blandly, "You do know that no matter how much flattery you give me, you're still going to have to sleep on the roof tonight, right, foreigner?" The woman suddenly laughed at Téa's comical response to her statement, telling the poor girl between giggles that she was only joking and that she appreciated the compliment.

"I've to set the table now, but come back outside to the courtyard once you've freshened up. My husband is looking forward to meeting our new stray, not to mention I'd like to hear what a Trojan thinks of my cooking." The woman gave a wink before swiftly turning to walk out the open doorway, her obsidian hair swaying behind her. The door closed softly once she was clear, giving Téa privacy.

The azure-eyed girl allowed her smile to drop naturally off her face, moving to press her face in the palms of her hands, an action she regretted as she was once again reminded of how tender her skin was if her squeak of discomfort was any indication. She left her hands where they were, though, for as long as she didn't move them across the skin she was alright. Peeking through her fingers, she spied a relatively small mirror hanging on the opposite wall in front of her. Getting up, she approached it, grimacing as she got a full glimpse of her condition. Choosing to ignore it for now, she brushed her hair with her fingers, grateful for once for its shortness, before turning to put her shoes on. She stopped in mid-motion when she felt the sting. There were blisters. On her feet. How could she have forgotten! Gritting her teeth again, she chose to ignore it as best she could, forced the shoes on, and walked awkwardly from the room. She would ask Thema if she had something for them after dinner.

* * *

How was it that they could occupy an area, any area---though a cave in this case---for not even a week and have it look as if a sandstorm had ripped through it? Truly, if they were good at nothing else, they were certainly talented at making a place look virtually uninhabitable once they left it.

Malik heaved a look of annoyance to everyone and everything and yet to no one in particular as he entered their hideaway, taking in the hazardous, filthy state of the area around him. He was late and he knew it. He only wished that Bakura won't have noticed, for if he had, there would be no pacifier for his irritation and impatience. So, of course, he must know. Bakura loved finding excuses to put himself in a foul mood, claiming they made him be more of the person he was always meant to be. It was all rubbish in Malik's opinion. The blonde knew Bakura only used that excuse to give him the right to be a wonderful little terror. Hopefully, he wasn't taking it out on people the two actually liked this time.

Maneuvering with the grace that came so naturally to him from being a thief through the havoc that made up his fellow comrades and their various acts of devilry, he cut a path quickly through the main chamber and refused to acknowledge all but one. He gave a short nod to his older brother, Odion, who stood alone leaning against the wall next to the opening of the tunnel Malik was traveling toward.

"Be wary, Master. He is in an ill mood this day." His voice hummed in a low baritone, as dark and imposing as the man himself. Malik's eyes narrowed at the warning, and he nodded once as a sign of thanks before quickening his pace.

Malik had no prior knowledge as to what group had occupied these caves before, but he couldn't help but admire the intricate design of all the tunnels they had discovered carved deep into the rock. Their layout would confuse anyone without a sense of direction; no doubt it was possible that a person could be lost in their depths and shadows for days. Many of them comprised solely of rooms used for storage, bedrooms, a few kitchens, and bathing areas. Naturally, most were already claimed by every member of the bandits, but this was only after a "volunteer" had gone forward to make sure the halls and rooms weren't booby trapped. They had lost quite a few prisoners that way before Bakura decided that, for the brief time they planned on staying there, they weren't worth exploring. This was very unusual behavior for the Thief King, who was renowned for having an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, wealth, power, and the challenges that came attached with each, but Malik realized that he seemed to have bigger, greater things on his mind recently.

After twisting and turning along the tunnel, he finally came to the room of his partner which was located directly across from his own. He entered without knocking. The blonde didn't even take one step forward when he felt rather than saw something ring past his ear. Ring. With a sound only a blade could make. He cut his eyes to his right to find a knife still rocking slightly back and forth from its force of impact into the wall. All he could do was smirk.

"Having a bad day, I take it?"

"You're late," was all the response he got. It came out in a cross between a growl and a snarl.

"Yes, I realize that. I got a little held up."

"By what?"

"Oh, nothing important. Just a few guards is all." He saw no reason why he should inform Bakura of the encounter he'd had with a certain blue-eyed vixen. Not only was it not the time nor the place for such a conversation, but also he felt a deep-rooted urge to keep the albino in the dark about her, though he couldn't for the life of him explain why this was so.

"Well? What did you find out?" asked Bakura crossly, impatience his very persona. He was sitting sideways in a chair located across the room, one arm slung against the armrest to support his body while one leg remained tucked under him as the other hung over the side of the other armrest. He was wearing much the same thing that Malik currently was, except his robe was a much deeper crimson than Malik's with a smaller, beige robe peeking out from underneath. His kilt, however, was not white like Malik's but instead was a dark violet. Golden rings adorned most of his fingers, and he sported two gold bands around his ankles. A large golden ring with a flat pyramid in the center hung around his neck by the use of brown twine: the Millennium Ring, a newly acquired prize from the High Priest Mahado whom he'd killed in the tomb of the current pharaoh's father. Malik moved to the right of Bakura to sit on a small couch that was adjacent to where his albino friend was sitting, taking in the scar that slashed across his right eye and seeing that said gray eyes (their color for now) were trained on him the entire time.

"The city is being heavily guarded, but those who are defending it aren't particularly bright. I eluded them easily. Oh, and also, here. I figured this would amuse you." Malik withdrew from his pocket the wanted poster he had taken earlier that day. He handed it to Bakura and watched as the Thief King took one look at it before grinning wildly.

"How many are there?" asked Bakura smugly. Malik smirked at his friend's pride.

"I saw several pinned up on each of the main streets I went through, but otherwise, I can't really say. You're happy about that?" he inquired already knowing the answer.

"Very."

The blonde laughed lightly. "There are many pedestrians living there, as well. Thousands more than our usual hits, but I believe that will be to our advantage. The palace and the temples have the heaviest security of all, however."

"Naturally," replied the Thief King distractedly. Malik observed him with narrowed eyes; he could practically see the gears turning in the tomb robber's head. Malik decided then that it was the time to get serious.

"Bakura," he began somberly, which instantly caught Bakura's attention as he was rarely ever serious, "I know you have never led us astray, and while it is foolish to trust you, I often find myself doing it anyway. Which is why I have to ask, what is it you are planning? You've never left me in the dark this long before, and I'll admit that I don't like it. What is it you're trying to do?"

"Ah, that's what you've been moping about lately."

"I have not!"

"Oh, sure," Bakura grinned. "I'm sorry, Malik, I just didn't want to get your hopes up until I was sure..."

"Sure of what? Stop screwing with me!"

The Thief King laughed darkly. "I wish to see the Pharaoh about my new prize," he smiled almost fondly at the Millennium Ring, his fingers caressing the Item like a lover, "and in order to do that, we'll need to attack the palace. Now, I know we can." A silence, thick and oppressing descended the two until...

"I was right. You _are_ a madman," stated Malik matter-of-factly.

"You don't sound very confident. What don't you have faith in: my word or my madness?"

"You sound so surprised. Both have _always_ been questionable. I'm just trying to imagine how you're going to get past the High Priests to even see the Pharaoh."

"What? You're not coming along? Besides, as you can see, I already took down one easily enough."

"Of course I'm in. I just know you. You'll want the rest of them all for yourself, too."

"True."

Malik sighed mockingly. "So selfish." Bakura smirked proudly.

"I've been experimenting with the Ring, and I've discovered many things. For instance, summoning has gotten easier with the monsters summoned being stronger. I can also maintain several summonings at one time, if need be."

"Is that why you think laying siege to the palace will be easy?"

"I never said that. I just said that I know we can, which is even better. Knowing you'll succeed is better than losing a battle you _thought_ would be easy. Listen, this is what I have so far..."

And the two spent the rest of the evening planning out all the details. They believed it would be a few days at most for them to carry out their ambition.

* * *

"Thank you for the meal, Thema. It was wonderful. And thanks for the medicine for my blisters. I feel like such a nuisance," confessed Téa dejectedly. It seemed to her that she was receiving far more from Thema and her husband, who was a quiet but charming man, than what she had worked towards earning.

"Nonsense, young lady," said Jabari, Thema's husband, kindly. "We are more than happy to have you in our home. Besides, it's refreshing to find a foreigner with such manners, if you'll excuse my comment."

Téa smiled shyly at the man, her smile widening into a grin when she felt Thema nudge her playfully. She watched as Thema walked around the table to retrieve everyone's dishes, stopping to kiss Jabari on the forehead, then put the dishes in a small basket that would be taken to be washed in the morning.

Téa's first impression of Jabari had been very wrong. His tall stature, excellent physique (she kept forgetting that most men, and some women, walked around shirtless most of the time), and the hardened look in his eyes made him out to be extremely intimidating. She was expecting him to be a harsh man, all coldness and business. Imagine her surprise when his face had brightened in curiosity and kindness when he first noticed her walking from the house to outside. It was like she was looking at an entirely different man; she wouldn't have said it was the same person if she hadn't seen him herself.

He was wearing baggy but thin beige pants that cut off at the knee and brown sandals on his feet. Much of his head was covered in what seemed like a cross between a turban and a hijab except only his hair was covered by the cloth that hung down the turban and around the back of his head. Unlike a hijab, the neck was exposed. It was a deep indigo color that brought out his dark eyes, and his facial hair consisted of only a thick, black mustache that curved around his mouth and stopped at his chin. Throughout the dinner, he only asked her minimal questions and made a few comments that would make her laugh from time to time. He seemed not to be concerned at all about a stranger staying in his home with his wife, and he didn't pry at all into her past (or future, rather). It was a striking contrast from her own time where people couldn't leave their house or their car without locking it, and only luck determined whether they would remain unbothered, even in that state of security.

Téa was currently allowing her food to settle, remaining seated at the table. She hadn't realized how hungry she had been until food was suddenly being put in front of her. She looked up as Jabari moved away from the table. "Please excuse me, Téana, but I must ask my wife something."

The dancer nodded as he took his leave. Her sapphire eyes followed him as he approached Thema, who was across the courtyard cleaning up. He stopped her from what she was doing by tenderly grabbing her wrist, Thema looking at him with a mixture of surprise and playfulness. However, her expression turned serious when he began talking to her in very low tones. Téa couldn't make out anything that was said, so she turned around in her seat to face the table again, not wanting to appear too nosy. It wasn't long before both returned to sit at the table again.

"Dear," Thema began, "there's something important we need to talk with you about." Dread filled Téa's stomach. Suddenly, she really regretted eating anything at all.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Was she about to find herself on the street again? But, how? Why? This didn't make sense. At her worried expression, Thema startled and rushed to assure the girl.

"Oh, no, no! Everything's fine! It's just... We thought we'd warn you beforehand. If you intend to stay here, it is a likely possibility that you will not be the only one." The beautiful Egyptian woman looked to her husband for support.

"We tell you this in the utmost confidence, Téana," began Jabari dourly. "What we are about to say must be kept in secrecy, for both your welfare and ours. Consider it your only prerequisite for staying with us. Do you accept it?"

"I do." Did she really have any choice? Besides, from what Haji had told her before, she already had a pretty good idea of what he was about to reveal.

"Very good," declared Jabari, satisfied. "Our home is what we like to call a refugee home. We accept anyone who is in need of protection and shelter, even if it means from the law. We take in thieves and bandits, Miss Téana, so if you plan to stay here for a long time, you will come in contact with quite a few of them, I imagine."

"Oh. I see," she stated mock-uneasily. So, she had been right.

"We understand if this makes you feel uncomfortable," hurried Thema, closing her hand over Téa's to give her support and to further connect with her, "but it's something we feel that we need to do. The room and board for them is only that they leave our possessions where they first found them and do not harm us or any guests we may have; our lives are comfortable enough to allow this. But... If you are still afraid of living alongside thieves, you are free to leave at any time, dear. I promise, though, that nothing will happen to you. It hasn't before."

A slight silence ensued in which Téa appeared to think long and hard about her options. In truth, she was rejoicing inside. A rather subdued rejoicing seeing as how she still had no idea about how to establish a connection with the thief community that would lead her to Malik. That, and she was terrified of what she was supposed to do and expect once she got there, but it was what Haji wanted of her, and she trusted him. He had promised to watch over her, right?

"I think that will be ok," she said slowly. "As long as they don't try to harm me or you, there shouldn't be any problems, right?" She smiled sweetly at them. Her smile faded at her curiosity, though, and she found that she couldn't hold it back any longer. "If I may ask, why exactly do you feel the need to help them? Aren't they dangerous people?" She _really _hoped that didn't sound too skeptical or accusing, but there was no taking it back now. Thema suddenly looked really nervous and regretful, and Jabari appeared troubled and slightly angry.

"Well, uh," began Thema skittishly, glancing back and forth between Téa and Jabari, "well, uh, dear, you're right. That is, most of them _are_ dangerous. We know that. It's just...we feel that if we offer a kind hand to them when no one else has before that they'll remember it. Not that they'll change their ways, even we're not that hopeful. But, maybe---"

"Enough, Thema," stated Jabari quietly. It was used in a tone Téa hadn't heard him speak in before. It wasn't cold per se, it just brooked no argument. Thema silenced herself instantly in respect. "What Thema says is correct; we do do it for those reasons, but those are not the most important ones. The truth is the real reason is a selfish one." He paused to gather himself together. Téa got the impression that he was about to admit to something that maybe only Thema was privy to, and it was hard for him. "We are looking for our son, Wati. By now, he must be about your age. When he was thirteen, he and I...fought about--well, it doesn't matter now. The argument eventually came to blows, but I was able to restrain him. I threw him from the house, told him to leave and never come back. I was too angry to register that he had taken me completely seriously. He didn't come home that night. Or the night after that. When a month passed and there was still no sign--"

A chocked sob from Thema interrupted him as she got up and left the table, returning inside the house. Téa could only stare after her, heartbroken at her pain. Jabari hung his head in shame.

"A month and nothing. For all we knew, he was dead. Thema was devastated as was I. For Egyptians, our children mean more than the world to us and to have lost our only like that... Thema was in a terrible state afterward; she was inconsolable. Just when I thought she was ready to give up on living, though, we received a sign in the form of our neighbor. He said he had seen our boy; he was in all a rage when he told us, too. We asked him why he was so upset and where our son was. He told us that we just missed him robbing his house with three others, men with much more experience in all things. We should have been horrified at Wati's actions, but all we felt was happiness. And hope. He was alive. Living with a group of thieves but alive, and we knew he would remain that way for a long time. Believe it or not, thieves look after their own. So, that's why. Since Wati won't come here by mistake, we try to find him through those we shelter here. So far we've been unsuccessful, but it's understandable. Thieves aren't very trusting... So, now you know. I'm sorry but I must check on Thema." And without further ado, he followed after his wife. Téa remained where she was, still and silent.

* * *

Thema had been right. Sleeping on the roof under the stars _had_ been completely worthwhile. She knew she would probably never do so again when she returned to her time, so she promised herself to enjoy it while it lasted. By the time night came, Thema had calmed down considerably and was back in her normal mood. She didn't address Téa further on the subject of her missing son, and she herself found no need to bring it up again either. Her curiosity had been more than satisfied, and she didn't like it. She really needed to work on not letting it control her as it so easily did.

The night had been cool but not uncomfortably so. Téa herself had only needed one blanket. Thema and Jabari each took turns pointing out constellations to her and telling her the history and stories associated with each one. The azure-eyed girl fell asleep with a smile on her face, thinking that no World History class could top that or be as accurate.

She was woken up at dawn. Jabari had farming work he needed to attend to while Thema had household errands to make. Even though she hated to get up so early, she knew she owed it to the family to earn her keep. After applying the burn ointment and blister medicine again, she descended the roof and went into the house after Thema. The woman talked about having some clothes made for her since she only had the outfit she came in to wear; she didn't bother to listen to Téa's protests concerning the subject. For the time being, though, she was stuck with what she had although Thema allowed her to borrow a pair of her sandals to replace her platform ones. Téa could have cried, they were so much more comfortable.

She listened drowsily but as attentively as she could to Thema's explanation of what her daily routine was. Luckily, Thema offered to just spend this day showing Téa the ropes. All the dancer had to do was follow, watch, listen, and learn.

First, they took the dirty clothes and the dishes to the Nile to be washed. As Thema had an extra set of hands, she could get both done at once. The walk there was a little long for Téa's taste, but she refused to complain. She chalked it up to just being tired. As she washed the dishes and watched how Thema washed the clothes, Téa also noticed that there were many other women and young girls there doing the same. Even a few young boys were there, also. She tried to see if either of those two boys who had guided her here before were among them, but she never saw them. She had a feeling she wouldn't do so again.

Once that was completed, they returned to the house. Téa assisted Thema on hanging the clothes up to dry on the line she had stringing from one end of the courtyard to the other. A cloth was used to dry the dishes which both women put away, Thema directing Téa to where each piece was supposed to go. The girl knew she would have a hard time remembering it exactly. It was so different from her process at home!

The day passed very quickly it seemed to Téa. She and Thema spent the remaining time tending to the crops she had in the family garden. During their dull, laborious work, Thema warned her that Jabari would probably be bringing home their new guest today after his work was completed. Téa was thankful. She would need the preparation.

As promised, a man around Jabari's age entered along with him, a man, Téa realized with a start, who was the same one Jabari had been talking with when Haji had showed him in their shared vision. This man looked entirely unapproachable with his cold, black eyes and an aura of fury that never seemed to fade around him. Téa's impression was right this time; he only talked to Jabari in a civilized manner, it seemed. He addressed Thema with the air of someone who had better people to be bothered with, and it was she who always had to initiate conversation. But then, this was only speculation as only Ancient Egyptian was being spoken between the three, and Téa didn't dare try to talk to him in front of the other two.

He took his meal in the guest room, not being a social person. Thema was overjoyed.

"He's a complete brute, Jabari!" Thema scolded. "How could you bring his type here?"

"His type?" Jabari was flabbergasted and a little defensive. "I don't care about his type, Thema! I care about finding our son! I won't miss this opportunity just because he acts like a bastard!"

"I suppose you're right," conceded Thema grudgingly. "I advise you then, dear, to get it out of him fast if he does know anything because if he calls me 'servant girl' or 'sweetheart' again, I'll knock him right on his ass."

Téa slipped away from the table, claiming to need to use the restroom. In truth, she planned on confronting this guy. She nearly cursed when she realized that she never got a name for him.

**Runihura,** said Haji in her mind.

_What?_ she thought back, confused.

**His name is Runihura.**

_Oh, well, thanks._ She raised her hand to knock on the door when--

**Don't!**

Téa jumped at how loud his voice had become. _Ow, wha--? Why not?_

**Sorry, but what you're doing is not wise.**

_Care to explain?_ grumbled Téa. _Did you not tell me that I needed to get close to Malik? How am I supposed to do that if I can't get it out there that I want to be a thief?_

**That's just it, Téa. Runihura is not everything he's pretending to be. It would be better for you if you said nothing whatsoever to him. Besides, he doesn't understand English.**

_What? What do you mean he's not--?_

**Just trust me on this and about what will happen in the future. I will protect you.**

_Haji, you're really starting to freak me out! What are you talking about and why are you saying this?_

She received no further response. Utterly baffled and not a little scared, she nearly decided to knock on the door anyway just to show Haji that she didn't appreciate his psych out. She didn't, though; his warning had sounded too real, too serious to go against even though she probably could have.

Not everything he's pretending to be. What did that mean? Was he not a thief? Had that been what Haji had been trying to say? Why come here then? But there was an even more pressing question she had to ask.

Should she tell Thema and Jabari?

No. She wanted to desperately, but she knew they wouldn't believe her. She had no proof, and even they wouldn't believe an accusation like that without proof.

She went to sleep troubled that night.

Before she knew it another day had passed. Then another and another. She was steadily growing used to Thema's routine, and she rarely saw Runihura except when he was talking with Jabari at mealtimes before receding into his solitude. Still, she kept her mouth shut about what Haji had told her. She would have never expected how much she would regret it.

All was still that night. It was darker also as there was no moon. She had gone to bed earlier than usual, being so spent from the more active lifestyle she was still trying to adjust to. She must have gone to sleep around eight o'clock, or at least that's what it felt like. Too bad she didn't have a watch to check. She didn't know when Thema and Jabari joined her on the roof. She didn't know how long she had slept. She didn't know what time it was that Runihura had crept from his room to unlatch the front door of the house. She didn't know when the Pharaoh's guards entered the house, but she did know when they grabbed her up and chained her hands and feet. She did know when Thema cried out in pain and terror as well as when Jabari tried to struggle against them only to be violently restrained. She did know how she and the others were dragged down the stairs and out into the street, only to find Runihura standing there, laughing at them and accepting a reward for having turned in a family of thief sympathizers. She knew when she started yelling out in rage, in hurt at him, at Haji for not warning her, for not keeping his promise. She knew they were being taken to the palace dungeons for questioning and execution. She cried out more and kicked out at anything she could at that knowledge. And then it all went black again as she was silenced by a powerful blow to the head.

She didn't know that a certain other group was making their own rendezvous to the palace that night as well. And they were coming in force with no holds barred.

* * *

**A/N: And finito of chapter siete! I hope that wasn't too boring. I knew this chapter wouldn't be known for its action sequences, just really laying groundwork for some. Hopefully, you found some parts interesting, though. Please review and tell me what you think. Getting feedback works even better than Rock Star when it comes to giving me a jolt. No lie.**


	8. Ch 8: Infiltration

**A/N: Sorry for the lateness everyone. It's been busy for me lately. I hope you all have had a wonderful Thanksgiving and Black Friday if you are a U.S. reader. If not, then I hope you have had a pleasant few days in general! **

**Special thank you to Reviewers: Merciless Ruby, Ra'iira the Fiend, Suseh, TimeRose, the-writing-vampire (I hope this has been one heck of a curveball for you! :D), angelmusic848, waterbender111 (thank you so much for all your kind words. I hope you enjoy this next addition. And, yeah, it's time that Teá got some more love.), MariksxKitten, Lisa (sorry for the wait, and thank you so much for the review! Thank you for your compliments towards my writing. It means a lot!), and Moonhuntress09.**

**Special thank you to those who have Favorited/Story Alerted: MariksxKitten, Moonhuntress09, El Que Llora, and Suseh.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh. Otherwise, Marik/Malik/Yami Marik would have been in it indefinitely. **

**

* * *

**

_Ch. 8: Infiltration_

Teá drifted in and out of consciousness as the unfortunate group traveled to the palace. All she was ever able to make out at one time was that she was currently situated stomach-down over the flank of an Arabian horse. Her hands and feet were still shackled, and her head was throbbing. There were several other men traveling with them, each on horseback. Jabari and Thema were never within her sightline; she didn't know whether they were still conscious or not, or if they had the similar honor of being treated like nothing more than a wheat bundle over the back of a horse. Forget that; she wasn't even sure if they were all still together or not. She refused to give life to the thought that one or both of them could have been killed already. She wasn't ready to face what would come of that line of thinking.

Eventually, she would fade out again into the night, the pain and the numbed sense of doom too much for her mind and body to handle.

The next time she awoke was not by her choice. At one point, there was nothing but darkness as she found relief in the world of nothingness. In the next instant, she was giving out a cry that was both shocked and pained as she was thrown roughly into a prison cell so hard that her back hit the far wall. She crashed down to the floor, fully awake now and her breathing erratic. Across the room from her, she heard what sounded like two others being given the same initiation before the cell doors slammed shut. Wait... Doors?

And as she looked up from her position on the floor, still grimacing from the pain, that's when she realized it. Thema and Jabari were still alive--and relatively unharmed, it seemed--but each of them were in different cells, thick, menacing, black bars separating the couple and an entire hallway dividing them from Teá. Each cell only contained a small wooden bench that jutted out from its chained position on the wall. There were no beds or anything else to speak of. Clearly, this was a place reserved for housing prisoners temporarily. Nobody stayed here for very long. From this standpoint, there was no way they could help each other to escape nor find much of anything to help themselves.

_After all, what's that old saying?_ _A house divided cannot stand,_ the dancer thought forlornly, hoping that something would come out of her thoughts.

Nothing.

There was no reassurance. No instinctual drive to convince herself that everything would work out, that everything would be okay. There was no guiding voice. Haji, it seemed, had abandoned her.

Teá clenched her teeth in fury, her hands balling into fists. Just his name in her thoughts made her blood boil. Who the hell did he think he was? Did that foolish child-oracle, or whatever he was, think that he could just play with people's lives like this? Unbidden, the last thing he'd said to her before their capture drifted through her mind.

_Just trust me on this and about what will happen in the future. I will protect you._

Right, protection. What a load of bull _that_ had turned out to be! And after making a big promise like that and not living up to it, how did he _possibly_ expect her to continue trusting him? Truly, he must be mad!

Teá was too angry to care that she was blatantly questioning a being that was clearly higher than herself, a being who had knowledge, wisdom, and abilities far beyond her own understanding. At this point, though, she _just didn't care! _The only thing that mattered to her now was that she got herself, Thema, and Jabari out of here alive in whatever way possible. Should Haji finally get off of whatever vanishing act he was pulling and being oh-so-amused with to reappear and give them a hand, then great! If not... Well... He'd better stay the hell out of the way, then!

The brunette rose to her feet awkwardly, the shackles making it more than a little difficult. Taking smaller steps towards the cell bars to account for the lack of reach granted by the chains around her feet, she was finally able to wrap her hands around the bars in a white-knuckled grip. Leaning her forehead against the cool bars, she tried to wet her dry mouth to speak.

"Thema? Jabari? Are you alright?"

Not even so much as a groan answered her. Her heartbeat began to quicken in panic at the lack of response. Truth be told, she knew two figures were laying on the ground in front of her, but she had merely assumed that it was her two gracious hosts. The lighting in the prison, or dungeon, or whatever kind of torture chamber this was made it too dark to clearly make out what was in front of her. There were no windows, so she assumed that this place, wherever it was, was underground. Desperate, she tried again.

"Thema? Jabari? Is that you? Please!" She wasn't sure who she was pleading to, only that she wanted for them both to be alive and well in front of her. Faint rustling could be distinguished at her cry, but there was nothing more.

Getting an idea, she began to bang one of the cuffs that bit down around her wrists against the bars, jarring said wrist in the process but also making enough noise to bring them both to awareness if they were unconscious. She shouted their names a few more times all the while, her fifth attempt giving her what she desired.

A body from the other side began to stir before it shot up in alertness, crying out "Thema!" in a horrible scared and broken voice.

"Jabari! Jabari, it's me, Teána! Thank God you're alright!" Teá could have cried, she was so relieved. That is, until he started talking in the language of Ancient Egyptians. That was when she realized that she had been speaking her own native tongue of Japanese this entire time, the shock of this entire moment forcing its familiar tones to take precedence over the sheer foreignness of this whole situation. Wanting to knock herself upside the head for being so oblivious, she repeated her last statement, this time in English. Jabari responded back in kind.

"Oh, Teána! I'm sorry, I can't see you over there. Are you unharmed?"

"I'm okay, for the most part. How's Thema?"

"I'm trying to wake her now, but the bars are making it quite difficult." Though he tried, he couldn't completely keep the fear and worry out of his voice. Teá's heart went out to him then. After several minutes of coaxing on both Jabari's part and her own efforts, Thema awoke as well, being far more disoriented than they had been.

"J-Jabari? My love, is that you? Teána? Are you still with us?" She crawled the short distance away to the edge of her own bars to hold hands with her husband, but the bars made this almost impossible to do. Instead, they settled for linking their pinky fingers together, a gesture Teá could scarcely make out from where she was.

"Yes, my dear, I'm here," Jabari replied, his voice and composure strong once again in the face of his now-conscious wife. "Teána is here, too; she's across the way." He nodded towards her, bringing Thema's attention to the girl, who tried to send her a bright smile that turned out to be quite watery. Teá hoped that the dim light would hide that fact. Abruptly after this, though, Thema began to cry small, almost silent tears.

"Oh, Teána," she whispered brokenly, her voice full of regret, "Teána, I am so sorry. I never meant to get you involved in something like this. Neither of us did. We only wanted to help you, and others like---" Her speech choked briefly on a sob before she finished with "I'm so sorry!" Unable to go on, she turned her face away in shame. Teá rushed to reassure her.

"It's not your fault! Okay? None of this is your fault," the girl stated strongly, the tone in her voice practically pleading for her hosts to believe her. "You were only trying to find your son in the best way you knew how. I can't blame you for that. This is all just...a mistake at being at the wrong place at the wrong time. For all of us."

A grim, heavy silence descended upon the room as Teá's voice faded off, so thick it was almost unnatural. There was no need for communication, though, for they were each thinking the same thing.

_There's got to be a way out of this... There HAS to be!_

However, before Teá could collaborate her thoughts with those of Thema and Jabari, the thick, wooden chamber door creaked open, revealing a regal figure behind it. The teenager couldn't help it. She let slip a gasp of shock.

* * *

It took less time than they'd anticipated to reach the palace. For whatever reason, it seemed the guards were more preoccupied that night than usual. Neither Bakura or Malik voiced any complaints, but both were equally aware that things weren't nearly as much fun this way.

They only had to slit the throats of three guards as they penetrated the palace's southeastern corner. Disposing of the bodies was a harder affair than usual, though. Normally, Bakura would summon a monster to devour any remains, but since they had yet to be detected, Bakura was hesitant for once to ruin a good thing. Any magic used would be detected by the High Priests instantly, and their location would be compromised. Bakura and Malik wished to at least get past the servants' quarters before they began their attack. The two master thieves didn't want to make it too easy or obvious for their enemies.

Malik sent Bakura a cold yet determined look as they stalked from shadow to shadow down the corridors of the servants' quarters where security was nonexistent. The lives and affairs of the "hired help" weren't of much interest to the Pharaoh and his priests as far as ensuring their protection went, it seemed. If they really wanted to, they could sneak from room to room and end the lives of every person in the wing without even disturbing them from sleep, and no one would be the wiser until someone realized that the morning meal had yet to be prepared. The chaos it would ensue would last for an entire day at most.

It was hardly worth the effort. Besides, they had no conflicts to settle with the servants; it would merely be a waste of time.

Malik cast a furtive glance around the corner, hood situated firmly over his hair to cast shadows into his amethyst eyes. There were no guards again. Bakura appeared at his side, his now red eyes narrowed in suspicion as he motioned for the four other thieves with them to follow.

They had decided upon having two waves of operation. A small group would infiltrate the palace first, both to scope out the area as well as to get as close to their target as possible without being discovered. As this would likely be the most dangerous part if their plan and require the most precision and cunning, Malik and Bakura had naturally taken it upon themselves to undergo the mission along with four of their most trusted men.

Meanwhile, the rest of their band was lying in wait within the city, posing as ordinary citizens outside the palace walls, some even going so far as to pretend to be praying within the nearby temples. As soon as the first group was found within the castle, Bakura would unleash a wave of magic over each of them using his Millennium Ring, allowing each of them to summon a monster. While they wouldn't be exceptionally powerful like Bakura's Diabound, they would still serve a mighty purpose. All of the palace's defenses would be focused internally upon the inside group, leaving them completely exposed and unprepared to take on another force attacking from the outside. Their monsters would lay waste and destruction to most of the palace and its guards before the Pharaoh and his forces knew what hit them.

Bakura's blood was boiling in excitement just thinking about it.

Malik chose that moment to shoot him another look, one that Bakura couldn't ignore this time.

"What is it?" he hissed impatiently, slightly agitated at the behavior of his partner.

"I still don't understand why Odion couldn't be a part of this. How can you trust me but not him? He's my brother," Malik demanded in a low voice. Bakura growled.

"Hardly. He's only your brother in word alone. He has more ties to the people in this palace than he does to you. Besides, I barely trust anyone, Malik. You know that. I'd have thought that it would have spoken enough that I allowed him to be the one to command the outside attack---"

"I know you well enough to know when you just make up lies on the spot, Bakura. You think he would betray us if he was here."

"With good reason," he admitted, glaring back fiercely. "He's kin to one of them."

Malik shook his head sharply. "That may be, but he has proven, time and again, that he isn't loyal to them. They betrayed him! He has as much right to get revenge as the rest of us!"

"Keep your voice down, fool!" the albino hissed angrily. "Do you want to give us away?" A brief silence ensued before Bakura spoke again. "You tie yourself too closely to him, calling him family when it's obvious that he's not. Otherwise, why would he call _you _'Master'? I suggest you cut that tie before it chokes you around the neck. Such foolish notions as family will only destroy you."

"You filthy hypocrite!" Malik snarled back. "If family means nothing, then what the hell has all of this been for if not to avenge your own that was slaughtered at Kul Elna?"

"You dare to question my motives, Malik?" Bakura asked incredulously before anger took control again. "Everything I am, everything I've done, I've done for them! Don't you _ever_ doubt that!"

"Then what, pray tell, is the difference?"

"The difference? Simple. I am tied to them by blood and the promise of vengeance. You and Odion have no such bonds. You are together merely through an agreement that can fall through at any time, that can be betrayed at any time. He hero-worships you, true, but that can only last for so long. But, really, is now the best time to be talking about this? Don't know if you've noticed, but we're kind of in the middle of a break-in here."

Bakura shoved past Malik, ending the conversation as far as he was concerned. Malik, though, could never resist having the last word.

"This isn't over, Bakura!"

"Feh!"

Each making a silent agreement to let the topic drop, they followed their men who had gone ahead to ensure the passageways were safe. Finally, all six of them found their way to the door that would lead into the interior of the palace. Taking a step forward to open the door, Bakura was the first to step through it, a pleased smirk passing across his face. As soon as the two guards stationed outside the door realized just _who_ had appeared beside them, they prepared to raise their weapons to fight as well as their voices to shout out a warning. They only got so far as to open their mouths in surprise before Bakura decapitated one with a spare saber he kept by his side while Malik ran the other through with a long dagger he kept hidden within his robe. They dropped to the ground with a sickening thud.

As the others moved the bodies to hide within the servants' quarters, closing the door once they were finished, Malik and Bakura determined which path they should take. There were currently two corridors before them, one going straight on, the other directing to their right.

"Split up?" Malik suggested.

"It certainly would make things more interesting," Bakura grinned evilly.

Taking the straight path, Malik led two of the thieves forward, weapons unsheathed and ready, while Bakura took the remaining thieves down the right hallway. Neither looked back.

* * *

Teá felt her eyes widen comically and her mouth drop open in disbelief. She couldn't help it, though. Despite Haji's warnings, despite what the tablet had shown her in the Ancient Egypt exhibit, she still couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that she would be seeing _him_ here now, so suddenly.

_Seto Kaiba._

But, it wasn't really Kaiba. Not really. The cold, no-nonsense CEO of Kaiba Corp had never looked as he did now in the lavish robes of an Egyptian High Priest and.... Oh, God! Was that...?

_It is, _Teá realized revoltingly as she spied the golden object strapped by a belt loop at his side. _It's the Millennium Rod. But...why does he have it? Since it's Malik's in the present, shouldn't it be his now, too?_

Overall, though, Teá was unsure to take this new development as a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, the destruction that his darker half had inflicted in her dreams couldn't have any sort of pre-show in this time, not while he didn't have possession of it. On the other hand... She, Thema, and Jabari may be feeling its effects sooner than she'd anticipated. After all...

They were now criminal sympathizers against the Crown.

Teá shrank back into the cell, an act she would have never done to the real---or rather---to _her_ Seto Kaiba. But, then, that was because despite everything they'd all been through, she knew that Kaiba wouldn't hurt any of them, least of all her. This man in front of her, though... He looked like he could order the brutal deaths of a thousand puppies and sleep at night listening to their agonizing cries with a smile on his face. This could only mean nothing short of hell awaited for each of them if they didn't think of an escape plan quick. After all, people usually cared more for the well-being of animals than they did for that of other people.

Seto's---what was he exactly? His pre-incarnation? Because past life just sounded silly... Anyway...

Seto's pre-incarnation roved his icy blue eyes around the room, staring each of them down with a look of hatred that Teá had to hold back a flinch from. She tried to keep eye contact with him, but it was a fool's effort. The intensity and cruelty that radiated off of him was too much for her to stare down for long. Reluctantly, she averted her eyes to examine once again the shackles that were bound to her wrists. She couldn't help but flinch for real when his cold baritone vibrated around the room. What made it all the more worse was that she could still tell the depths of his malice just by listening to his tone; no understanding of his message was necessary or wanted.

He seemed to be talking to Jabari, but as soon as Thema joined the conversation, coming to her husband's aid, not-quite-Seto snapped cruelly at her, shooting a deadly look at the poor woman which she had no choice but to back down from. Jabari sent his wife what looked like a reassuring look but once he directed it briefly towards Teá, the girl saw that it did not reach his eyes. Jabari and fake-Seto exchanged words for several more minutes before he stalked from the room, slamming the door ominously behind him.

Teá drew her eyes away from his dramatic exit to find Thema and Jabari staring at her with sad eyes.

"What?" she said, her voice coming out more shaky than she would have liked. "What did you talk about?"

"I'm sorry, Teána. We tried to get you out of this, but he's gone for help," Thema lamented, her dark eyes shining with her unsaid despair.

"Help?" The dancer was confused. "What do you m---?"

"He's gone to get a translator, so you can be questioned. We told him that we could do it, but he made it obvious that he doesn't trust the word of dirty thief conspirators like us," Jabari ended darkly. "He noticed that you do not appear native to these lands, and we told him that you hail from Troy. We thought that would be enough to ensure your release. It has in the past with other foreigners, but it looks like the laws have changed."

"As they always change to fit _their_ needs," Thema added, a bitter note to her voice that Teá was surprised to hear.

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Teá inquired worriedly, feeling her heartbeat quicken in anxiety. "What about you two?"

"Don't worry about us, Teána. Do you understand?" Jabari said sternly. "We've lived our lives. If this is where they will end, then we'll just have to accept it, but you... You still have much to live for. Just tell them the truth that you told us, and you should be pardoned. Lie to them and say that you did not know that we sheltered thieves. And if you won't," Jabari interceded loudly as Teá started to protest, "if you won't, then _I_ will do so for you!"

Her oceanic eyes wide in pain and sorrow, Teá was fully prepared to tell Jabari off. To tell him that he wasn't her father and couldn't tell her what to do. To tell him that she was going to do everything she could to get them out, even if it meant compromising herself, but there was no time. For just as soon as she opened her mouth to shout back at him, the door swung violently open again, Seto's pre-incarnation stepping grandly through along with another High Priest and a few guards.

Instead of fake-Seto taking up the lead of the conversation like she expected, the priest who accompanied him stepped up to address her. Teá kept a wary eye on not-quite-Seto as he walked predatorily around the room, arms crossed in front of his chest and a cold sneer on his countenance. Despite her instincts warning her not to, she looked away from him to give the priest in front of her her full attention.

He was incredibly tall both for the average stature heights of this era and hers with broad shoulders and gold jewelry adorning his biceps, wrists, and belt. A white kilt with a single strip of cloth crossing his chest to be thrown over one shoulder was all the dress he wore. A large golden collar around his neck draped itself upon his clavicle, shoulders, and upper back. A golden headband kept the straight, obsidian hair framing his face in place as his dark eyes locked on hers. Overall, he was an impressive figure, but nothing about him struck her so soundly once she pinpointed the object he had brought with him. In his hands, she realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach, was another Millennium Item, and not just any Item but the Millennium Scales. A sense of foreboding overcame her, causing her shoulders to slump in futility. There was no way she could get away with lying now.

"I am Pharaoh Atemu's High Priest Karim," he spoke in an articulate English dialect. Though it wasn't as cold as the tone the other priest had used, it was still just as intimidating. "High Priest Seth has informed me of your friends' charges, and now we shall determine yours."

Several thoughts flashed through Teá at that moment. Crazy thoughts like if she could just talk to Atemu, surely everything would work out fine. He was her friend in the future; what would stop him from being her friend in the past? She marveled at the fact that Seto's name hadn't changed much from one life to another and wondered how many other's shared that coincidence, but she managed to shove these all away and focus on the one that held the most importance, the one that made the most sense.

"Charges? But what have they done wrong?" she couldn't help but demand, much to Thema and Jabari's dismay.

"I told you, girl, don't you throw your life away for us!" Jabari hissed at her, only to flinch horribly backward as High Priest Seth slammed the Millennium Rod against the cell bars, barking out a harsh order in Ancient Egyptian. Whatever it was, Jabari obeyed but not without sending the girl one last look of warning. It was all in vain, though, for Teá knew that her soul would be forfeit if she lied.

"What they have done is use their home to harbor criminals who have committed atrocities both to the Crowned rulers of Egypt and to the public at large, despite all warnings and laws that have been placed to ensure that these disgusting vagrants are captured and receive justice. For that, they are being sentenced to death by beheading, a fitting punishment for sympathizers of devilry." Karim declared matter-of-factly, eyes never wavering from hers. "Now, your own interrogation shall begin. State your name."

Teá's heart was pounding wildly in her chest, sounding so loud in her ears that she thought she'd grow deaf by it. What was she going to do? Everything she'd ever told anybody in this time had been a lie, but there was no way she could say she was Teá Gardner of Domino City, Japan 3,000 years in the future. It would compromise _everything!_ Indecisive and at a complete loss at what to do, a thought passed, unbidden, through her mind.

_Just trust me on this and about what will happen in the future. I will protect you._

Was that really Haji speaking to her in her mind just now, or was she merely conjuring up any protection or answer she could to try and get control on the situation? She didn't know, but she knew one thing... She could afford at least _one_ lie to see if it would backfire on her. If it did, then she would have no choice but to speak the truth. But if it didn't...

"My name is Teána," she began, voice only wavering due to pent up adrenaline and nervousness, "and I hail from Troy."

She kept a sharp eye on the Scales, waiting for the empty side opposite of the feather to begin to weigh itself down with her lies. But it didn't. Not even after several moments had passed; still, both sides remained equal. If Teá wasn't under such a scrutinizing audience, she would have shook her head in disbelief. She didn't really expect to get away with it, not after the horrifying affair concerning its present day owner, Shadi. Yet, it seemed that she had. Karim seemed to take it as an honest answer, at least.

_Haji, _Teá thought distractedly,_ are you still with me after all? _Only silence greeted her, but instead of taking it poorly as she had before, she took it as a sign that what she was doing was right. It certainly felt right, at this moment.

"And what business do you have here in Egypt?" Karim continued, unperturbed.

"Honestly," Teá lied ironically, "I don't know. Two boys found me sleeping in the dunes, and I don't know how I got there or why. I still don't know how I got here from Troy..."

Again, the Scales remained motionless.

"How did you come across these two criminals?"

"They're not criminals!" she bit out fiercely, unable to stop herself. At the sharp looks she received, she took a deep breath to calm herself down. Continuing on in a lighter tone, she said, "At least, they weren't when I met them, and I still believe that they're not. They took me in off the streets just a few days ago and offered me a home until I got my bearings, showing nothing but kindness to myself and others along the way. That's all."

"Were you aware that they also harbored thieves and criminals when you accepted their kindness?" Karim spoke as if he had all the time in the world to question her, and she found it to be a bit unnerving.

"Initially, you mean?" she spoke slowly. "No. No, I was not aware of it. However, they told me of it in due time. I could not fault them for it." She hesitated then, unsure if she should be the one to reveal their secret. She reasoned, though, that it couldn't hurt. At this point, they had already been sentenced to death. Perhaps, her next words would make them reconsider? "They told me that... They only give shelter for those people because they are looking for their son. All they want is to see him alive again. They don't care about assisting those thieves in whatever cause they fight for. They just want to find their son. Otherwise, I know they would never even hope to go against your laws!"

"We do not care about what they hope to do, Teána of Troy," stated Karim sternly. "We care about what they did and have continued to do despite all our warnings, despite the Pharaoh's and the Gods' warnings. By that confession, it appears that you yourself never once thought of abiding by our laws, either, by turning these two into us. As of this moment, you are just as guilty as they are."

Jabari and Thema's gasps of horror were drowned out by Teá's next statement, her eyes flashing angrily. "But that's absurd! All they wanted was their son back! Doesn't that, doesn't _family_ mean anything to you?" Teá faltered slightly as what seemed to be a flash of pain enter into the High Priest's eyes, but it was quickly hidden away before she could examine it further. Gathering her bearings again, she continued, "Besides, how was I supposed to know of the complexities of your laws? After all, I just arrived here not too long ago with no idea how it came to be! Did you honestly expect me to want to find and study a list of your laws instead of trying to find a place to sleep, a place to survive? Perhaps, had I been more privy to the knowledge, I would have turned them in, especially if I knew the punishment would be what it was. But, then again perhaps not. I cannot say, and neither can you. Can you still fault me for it?"

The Scales, still equally weighed on both sides, seemed to make Karim's mind up for him.

"Do you know what these Scales do?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "They measure a person's soul. If someone tells a lie before the Scales, it will become heavily weighed down with their sins until Anubis appears to completely devour that person's soul. By the power of the Scales, you have not lied once during this interrogation, deeming that your soul is just and worthy. To that end, no, I cannot find fault with you for your choices thus far." He looked up from his intense observation of the Item to fix her with an equally meaningful look. "By the evidence presented here, Teána of Troy, I have determined that you are innocent in these affairs. Your friends, however, are not."

Any hope and peace that Teá had felt at her innocence shattered with the damnation of Thema and Jabari. She whipped her head to look at them in fear and misery, eyes welling up with tears. She whispered both of their names brokenly, but both adults just regarded her with a small smile and a strong look in their eyes. During her questioning, they had become accepting of their fate, whatever it may have been. Now, nothing could break them from their resolve to see it through.

Seth and Karim were speaking in Ancient Egyptian but Teá registered none of it. If she had, she would have realized that they were arguing about something. Instead, she and her hosts were communicating everything they could with their eyes, words failing them. Only Jabari had one last thing he wanted to say.

"Teána, my dear," he said, smiling soothingly to her, "I know this may sound ridiculous to you. After all, we have only known each other a short while but... Ever since I first saw you step from my house, I considered you to be nothing less than if you were my own daughter. I'm proud of you and your strength in all this, and I thank you for defending my wife and I during this whole ordeal. You have said that you have already forgiven us for it, but I can't help but ask that you do so again."

"Jabari, Thema, I---"

But Teá was cut off from any endearment she might have said by Seth stepping forward to wrench open the cell door housing Jabari. Striding forward, he grabbed Jabari by the shirt collar he wore, growling out something menacingly as he dragged the man out of the cell. Shortly after his declaration, Thema began shouting in terror, her pleading breaking though even Teá's language barrier. Trying to understand what was happening, Karim stole her attention. His posture had stiffened significantly, and he had a sneer of disgust morphing his features. Only... It wasn't towards Jabari, it was towards Seth. The two exchanged words again before Seth left the cell, dragging Jabari behind him with Thema's sobs following his wake.

"What? What is it?" she rushed to ask. "I don't understand! What's happening?"

Thema was too overcome to explain, so Karim did so for her. "High Priest Seth had taken it upon himself to enact his own brand of justice upon your friends, despite my efforts of trying to convince him not to. His methods, while effective for keeping enemies of the Crown in line, are deeply unconventional and shouldn't be used against simple civilians, as your friends still are. However, he is the Pharaoh's right hand, so I cannot stop him. My deepest sympathies," he directed towards Thema who was a wreck upon the prison floor, though whether he was truly remorseful or not was difficult to say. His voice betrayed nothing. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. Your deaths were supposed to be quick."

"But," Teá choked, dizzy with everything that was happening, "what is he _doing?_" Karim gazed at her morosely before turning his face blank again.

"He is using torture methods to extract Jabari's Ka from him." Besides Thema's cries, silence dominated the prison.

_Torture? _Teá's mind tried to wrap around it all. _Jabari's... Jabari's... Ka? What is---?_

But before she could investigate further, a violent _bang!_ erupted through the palace followed by small vibrations that shook the dust loose from the ceiling. Shouts started to ring out left and right, and those left in the cell looked around themselves, alarmed. Another explosion sounded, seeming both close by and farther away. Suddenly, Seth reappeared in the cell again, shouting in his native tongue to Karim, whose conversation sent a new wave of sobs to consume Thema. All too quickly they were gone, taking the guards with them.

"Wait!" Teá shouted as loudly as her voice could manage. ""Wait! _What's going on?_"

"Jabari..." Thema moaned out. After a few more moments of coaxing from Teá, Thema clarified. "Jabari... He... That _monster_ said that he didn't last long with the torture. They extracted his Ka from him quickly, only to have it be a-a _useless_ monster!" Thema's voice suddenly turned savage. "Well, I hope they use it in the battle happening in the palace now, only to have it turn against them!"

The azure-eyed teen had never felt so out-of-touch and lost before in all her life. "Jabari... You mean... He's-he's dead?" Feeling numb with that revelation, she continued almost lifelessly despite her now shaking body, "And... And what does everyone mean by...Ka? And what battl---"

Before she could finish or get any answers, though, another explosion ignited. However, it was much closer this time. So close, in fact, that over half the wall of the prison blew outward towards Teá. The brunette cried out in terror, trying to shield herself with her arms and warn Thema at the same time, but it was too late. Thema was quickly blasted off her feet and buried under a pile of rubble, the force of the blast sending Teá herself backward into the wall again, much like how she had first come to be in the cell. Falling to the ground, her world began spinning. She was now dizzy for an entirely different reason than before, and black spots began to appear in front of her eyes. Only one thought prevailed.

_Am I really going to live through this?_

_

* * *

_

Bakura was certainly off to a good start. Business had been conducted with the Pharaoh more quickly that he'd imagined it would. They weren't even aware of his presence until he had practically busted the throne room's doors down.

It was pathetic.

Without even waiting, Bakura sent his magic to the rest of his followers, allowing them to awaken their own Ka and summon them into battle. It was all too easy to hold the Pharaoh and his priests at bay with his Diabound, though two priests were distinctly missing from the fray not counting the one he had killed and stolen the Millennium Ring from. The look on the Pharaoh's face when he'd realized that had been priceless. But, even he knew when he had overstayed his welcome. As powerful as his powers had become, withstanding the onslaught of the Pharaoh and his priests had proven to be a challenge for him and his energy was quickly being spent. As the crashes and cries of pain from the outer portion of the palace began to carry on the Sahara winds to his ears, he had excused himself from his enemies' presences. Using Diamond, he allowed the monster to wrap his tail protectively around him and morph them through the floor to the lower levels.

Now, he was traveling through the palace, occasionally running into his own men to find them at odds with the palace guards. It was child's play to lay waste to their monsters. As soon as his men were relieved, they began their raid on the palace, stealing and carrying anything of value they could get their hands on.

Chucks of stone were being blasted from the walls, leaving gaping holes where they once had stood. Blood and screams were everywhere.

It was so addicting.

Everything was running smoothly until he ran into an unsightly obstruction in the form of High Priest Seth. Bakura let loose a growl in the back of his throat. This whelp had always been a right pain in his ass. It was about time he rid him of his life and gave a new place of belonging to the Millennium Rod he so undeservingly wielded. As Bakura gave the order for Diabound to attack, Seth summoned his own Ka, the Duos Dragon. While weaker than Diabound, the black dragon still put up a decent fight, taking full advantage of Bakura's wearied state.

It wasn't too long before the albino found himself backed into a corner and what an ironic corner it was.

It was in a prison.

* * *

Teá tried to shake herself into awareness, but this only made the throbbing and fuzziness in her head to worsen at an alarming rate. Bringing a hand up gingerly to feel her head, she pulled it away to find a crimson liquid staining her fingers. Blood. And by the feel of it, a concussion to match.

She groaned in discomfort, feeling aches and bruises beginning to form everywhere. She managed to raise herself up as far as her hands and knees before another wave of dizziness hit her again. She had to prop her head upon her arms that were still laying on the floor, closing her eyes tightly as she waited for the dizziness and the nausea to subside. She imagined that to any spectator she would appear as if she were in deep prayer. As sounds and senses began to wash foggily over her, she began to think that that wasn't a bad thing to do. Before she decided on anything, though, she felt an intense heat fly past her to ricochet angrily off the wall. She flung her head up, blue eyes completely focused, to determine just _what_ exactly was going on in front of her. Her hand came up to cover her mouth unconsciously at what she saw.

A black dragon, menacing and terrifying, hovered just a few meters in front of her, sending out roars of anger. How she'd missed it before, she didn't know. The beast was currently locked in battle with what appeared to be a giant creature that was half-man, half-serpent. They looked... They looked like...

_Duel Monsters!_ Teá concluded, stunned. _But...how? That's impossible!_

But, was it really? The stone tablet in the Ancient Egypt exhibit came back to her again. Carved into the stone had been creatures that had creepily resembled Duel Monsters; both she and Yami had agreed upon that. Likewise, Ishizu had done nothing but practically confirm their theory. Now, here she was, in the era where that tablet had been created, looking upon a theory that was now being proven to be true.

Her mind, though, still wouldn't wrap around it all the way, so instead she tried to discreetly crawl backwards, turning to a thought that _did _make sense.

_Thema... I have to get to Thema. She's under that rubble, and I have to get her out!_

_But, what if she isn't alive anymore? _Another voice bid to her, her negative side making a rare appearance in all the chaos around her.

_No! She is! She has to be!_

_But what if she isn't?_

_Shut up! _Teá shouted back inwardly, shoving the voice away. _She is, and that's all there is to it!_

Another burst of heat stopped her backward advance, though. Just at that moment, a stray stream of fire escaped the battle to come soaring toward her. It was all she could do to spring herself out of the way in the nick of time, sending out a horrified shriek she couldn't keep held in no matter how hard she tried. She fell forward upon the ground, curling herself up into a protective ball with her arms covering her face.

Gathering her bearings as quickly as she could, she sprang to her feet and staggered against the wall, her legs unstable under her. Over half of her cell had been blown apart with the first explosion, and the jet of fire that she had barely avoided had freed the wooden bench from its place against the wall. The edges on one side were smoldering with fire.

Smoke was rising throughout the cell, and as Teá's eyes began to water and her throat started to close up, she realized that she needed to find Thema fast and get them both out of here. She had taken the first steps towards where she'd last seen Thema when she stopped short in shock.

Now that she was fully attuned to the situation, she finally noticed the people that were commanding the monsters in front of her. Hatred coursed through her as she took in High Priest Seth's form shouting what she supposed were orders to his black dragon. The teen concluded that it should have felt weird to see him without his trademark Blue-Eyes White Dragon, but she wasn't making the connection between the man in front of her and Seto Kaiba. As far as she was concerned, the man---no, _monster_ in front of her held no resemblance to Kaiba. He was just a fake wearing his face, forever cemented in her mind as the man who'd killed Jabari. Her hands clenched at her sides as her features twisted in anger. Who was he to decide who lived and who died and how they died? How can he just get away with it?

But, then the second man came into view, causing her clenched hands to release themselves in astonishment, her whole body seeming to relax in shock.

Bakura was standing in front of her. _Right in front of her!_

Her friend looked very strange with a tan, she decided. But, then again, this wasn't her friend. It was the Spirit of the Millennium Ring that often possessed her friend, only now he was here in the flesh. Haji had told her as much. Still...

It was getting so hard to think, to connect everything together under so much pressure. So many things were happening and becoming clearer to her all at once that she felt as if she would short-circuit at any moment.

A sharp cry rang out, and it wasn't her own. Refocusing on the scene in front of her, she watched in morbid fascination as Bakura's monster took a heavy hit in the side before her. At the same time, blood started pouring out of a wound located on the spot that the monster had been hit, only it wasn't coming from the monster. It was Bakura who had become inflicted with it.

The albino thief staggered back, a snarl on his lips but he stayed on his feet, keeping a hold on his wound. He spat something out at Seth, which the man only laughed at.

Teá didn't know what was happening to her, but rage, thick and hot, consumed her. Before she knew it, she had grabbed onto the wooden bench that was now free from the wall with a strength she didn't know she had, keeping its burning end away from her. No longer thinking but simply _doing_, she crept forward behind Seth, ready to swing away when she got a clear shot.

* * *

Bakura held his wound, getting a strange comfort at feeling his life's liquid run beneath his fingertips. He was no fool, though. He knew he needed to end this quickly if he hoped to escape here alive with the rest of his men. Taking the priest's life was no longer a priority right now, just a happy bonus if it occurred. Right now, he just needed enough of a distraction to get away.

It came surprisingly in the form of a petite, fair-skinned brunette girl that apparently Ra himself had sent to the Thief King out of nowhere. He spied her creeping behind the High Priest, a hefty piece of wood in hand that he had trouble believing she could lift even though the image before him clearly showed that she was doing just that. He averted his gaze from her quickly. He had to make sure that neither Seth nor his monster sensed her presence, and it wouldn't do if he were the one to give her away. Either she would succeed and (hopefully) knock the bastard unconscious, or she would prove to be enough of a distraction for him to finish the job. Despite his need to want to kill him mercilessly, he hoped it would be the former. He wasn't sure if he had enough energy to issue and withstand another attack.

"You were a fool to come here tonight, Thief King," Seth smirked at him. "Whatever you had hoped to achieve by it has been thwarted. You may as well surrender, and maybe I shall be merciful and ease your passing. We've already locked up and put to death a few of your sympathizers. Rest assured, they crossed into the Underworld under the greatest pain imaginable. If you cooperate, you may avoid such a fate."

Oh, good, he wanted _now_ of all times to be a talker. Ra truly was with him tonight.

Bakura laughed darkly at the priest's proposition, taking great pleasure at seeing the smug look leave his face. "Now, let _me_ assure you, Priest. What I wanted to gain out of this little visit of mine has been more than accomplished. I never could have imagined that things would go as well as they have, and by the looks of things, they still are."

Seth scoffed, "You're bluffing. Nothing has been achieved here except having a few walls that will need to be rebuilt. You have nothing left! Hell, you're practically dying where you stand!"

Bakura smirked, unable to keep the gleam of triumph from entering into his crimson eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't bet on that..."

"I was going to spare your life for now if you'd begged me for it, but now, you've just changed my mind," Seth snarled, icy-blue eyes flashing as he prepared to give his dragon the order to kill.

He never got that far.

The girl chose that moment to give a harsh, mock-warning comment of her own in a language that Bakura couldn't identify. Watching in deep satisfaction as Seth turned to her in surprise, he didn't bother to stop a laugh from escaping him as she brought the half-alight piece of wood down upon his person. Two _cracks! _rang throughout the cell; one being the impact of the wood upon bone, the other being the last-second retaliation of a hand reaching out to strike the face of the girl. Both went down to find rest on the stone, rubble-covered ground below them where they remained in a motionless heap. The slab of wood clanked down on the floor as Seth's Duo Dragon roared a final time before fading into nothingness, a result of having an indisposed master and thus being cut off from his magic supply.

To Bakura, his heavy breathing seemed to be the noisiest thing he had ever heard. It was the only sound present in the now morbidly silent cell, only being interrupted by the distant cries and battles still being waged throughout the palace. Concentrating, Bakura used his Millennium Ring to send the signal for his men to begin falling back. As he was the one to have initiated their magic signatures, he could still communicate with each of them. However, it wasn't a particularly complex form of communication, and it would soon fade away with time.

Withdrawing his knife from his robes, he cut a strip of the cloth off and crudely bandaged his wound. It wasn't much, but it was all he had time for and would stanch the bleeding well enough until they reached their hideout.

Casually walking forward, he stopped to stare blankly down at the body of the High Priest. As a cruel, bloodthirsty smile darkened his face, the dagger in his hand raising to pierce the Pharaoh's right hand in the heart, he was halted in his actions by the appearance of one of his men.

"Sir! We have a problem!" the harried man rushed to speak.

"What is it now?" the albino glared impatiently.

"Malik sent me to warn you. The Pharaoh's reinforcements are starting to arrive, and his own men have regrouped. We need to leave here now if we're all going to make it out alive."

"Very well. Let us go," he barely got out through clenched teeth. The thief nodded, quickly leaving the room no doubt taking the initiative to save his own skin.

Bakura growled out violently as he punched his free hand into the ground right beside the priest's head. "You got lucky tonight, priest. Don't count on it happening again."

Before he could leave the man's side, though, the girl who'd saved him caught his attention. She gave a quiet moan of pain, starting slightly. Suddenly, he found himself caught by a pair of deep, oceanic eyes before they were hidden away again by her fluttering lids. She was unable to remain awake.

Bakura was slightly torn. He should leave her, he knew that, regardless of whether he should save her or not. However... You didn't see eyes like that here everyday, and besides, what had Seth said about capturing his...what was it? His sympathizers? Was she one of them? He had to admit that all signs pointed to the fact that she must be. Why would she have gone after the priest and not him if she were on the Pharaoh's side? Did she have some sort of grudge against them herself?

If that was true, then that practically made them family despite the warnings he had given Malik earlier about it. He reasoned that a family of thieves was much different than the family, the kinship that Malik somehow saw with Odion. Malik's vision was a conventional one but an impossible one. Bakura's was improper and entirely based on one's own ambitions.

They just all happened to share the same one.

She stirred again but didn't awaken, reminding Bakura that he had wasted enough time here. Sighing agitatedly, he bent down to sling the girl over his shoulder. With a quick order, Diabound transported he and the girl through the walls of the palace to meet up with the rest of his band, coming to quick decisions about the girl.

If she was one of them, then that would be proven soon enough. She would be tested to reveal as much. If she was, then they had gained a sister. If she wasn't, well...

People die everyday. What was one more body amongst the carnage?

* * *

**A/N: End chapter! Love it? Hate it? Want some more dressing with that leftover turkey? Yeah, me too. :D**

**So... They meet again next chapter... I am so pumped! Are you?**


	9. Ch 9: Initiation

**A/N: See, I updated again, like I promised! It's nice when you have a long Christmas break. You can actually get stuff done. Anyway...**

**Special thank you to Reviewers: Merciless Ruby, Suseh, TimeRose, Moonhuntress09, Clair (thank you for reviewing! You're marvelous!), the-writing-vampire, YOUR FAN (thank you so much for reviewing! Your enthusiasm for my story is much appreciated. However, I must say that, no, this will not be a Téa/Seto pairing in any way. I've never gotten into that, and I feel that Malik deserves some more love than what he's got. I hope you enjoy, anyway.), and Eternal Eyes.**

**Special thank you to those who Story Alerted: Eternal Eyes and Seshou1388.**

**Disclaimer: I don't have money, so I can't screw the rules and own Yu-gi-oh. Sad day...**

**Henceforth, I dedicate this chapter to the-writing-vampire, who requested for another update in late December for her 19th birthday. Happy birthday, friend! I hope this chapter is to your liking!**

* * *

Ch. 9: Initiation

The band of thieves had traveled throughout the night, stopping to rest just as the first tiny rays of sunlight peeked timidly over the horizon, casting the land in a crimson, almost otherworldly glow. Usually, they would have continued onward until they had reached the sanctuary of their newest hideaway, but this time, something was different. Or should they say, some_one_?

The group hadn't been surprised at all when their leader, the Thief King, had emerged from the wreckage of the smoking palace with a wicked gleam in his eyes and unclaimed blood covering a hearty portion of him, his Diabound presenting a deadly and imposing figure behind him. They _were_ surprised, however, at the person he had draped over his shoulder---they rarely took prisoners, especially when the Pharaoh was involved. It had proven to be too dangerous in the past, and yet, here Bakura was with just such a person, breaking his own previously cast-iron decision.

The fact that the body was that of a woman only spelled more trouble, but they were all smart enough to know better than to argue with their leader, especially when he had a look like _that_ in his ruby eyes.

Malik's reaction, though, had been interesting to see to say the least. At first glance, he'd barely paid Bakura any mind, but all of that changed once he'd done a humorous double-take towards the girl's figure and face. He'd done nothing but stare at the unconscious girl and Bakura ever since, his amethyst eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. It was a characteristic so uncommon for the blonde man to possess that it was only too easy for the veteran members of the band to notice. Bakura certainly did, though he remained silent about it. It seemed that Malik had been keeping something from him, something concerning the girl.

His eyes narrowed in deep suspicion towards Malik at the thought. The albino's intrigue in the girl had certainly skyrocketed after this growing realization.

However, that had been quite a few hours ago, and the girl that had easily and quickly become the main topic on everyone's minds had recently awakened, making such a furious, terrifying racket that it was a wonder that the Pharaoh and his priests hadn't heard it at all. Of course, even if they had, there was no way they could make out just _what_ she'd shrieked out. No one present could make sense of the gibberish she spouted which was certainly saying something. They had an extremely diverse group, a motley crew of cultures, languages, and appearances; the girl matched little of these, which only brought up another important question.

Where was she from, anyway?

If they had hoped to gain any information from her at her awakening, they were sorely disappointed. She understood no other language than the one she had screamed out at them, and if she did, she didn't let on. Everyone could tell that Bakura was quickly becoming frustrated by his tensed posture and the heavy scowl on his face, but the girl took no notice. Either that, or she didn't care. Neither choice, however, was very wise, the men knew from experience. There was one thing they did know for sure: the men present at the scene felt sorry for the poor saps that had been ordered to carry the bounty ahead to the hideout. They were surely going to miss one hell of a show.

Téa herself was just as curious about each of them, but she didn't show it. Rather, she couldn't. Any fascination she had felt previously towards this wild group had been buried under an avalanche of pain and regret as she'd woken up.

She had initially been confused as she tried to focus on her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was that she had attacked not-quite-Seto-but-still-as-big-of-a-jerk-as-ever before pain had erupted in her head from his sudden strike. Combined with all the smoke she'd inhaled and the stress of the night, it had been too much for her body to handle. Every memory after that was just a huge blur swimming in her mind. The next thing she knew, she was perched side-saddle on a horse, leaning against something hard. Two robed arms were gripping the reins on either side of her, likewise keeping her from slipping off, she realized, before she'd leaned her head back to see two malicious, crimson eyes staring back at her. Coupled with the fact that she also realized that the blood drenched in his clothing had steadily seeped into her own thin, present-day clothes (she had decided to forego the traditional Egyptian wear the night before and sleep in her more familiar clothes instead) where she had leaned against him, pandemonium soon broke out. The end result was that she had reacted so violently that she practically fell off the horse in mid-trot, screaming her head off in Japanese before the Spirit of the Ring could subdue her, and not very gently at that. Camp was quickly made after that fiasco from a biting order given by Bakura, and she had refused to say or respond to a word since.

Currently, she was sitting separately away from their camp with her knees tucked under her chin and her arms wrapped around her folded up legs at the feet of the Thief King's chestnut-colored horse, which seemed to be far calmer than its master could ever be. Its tranquil demeanor was the only reason why she felt so comfortable about where she was. Her hands and feet were still shackled, and nothing she had done thus far had loosened them any. Around her was nothing but parchment-colored sand dunes stretching out in menacing hills as far as the eye could see. As the situation was now, it would be impossible to make any sort of escape.

_But, I don't need to escape, do I? _she thought to herself bitterly. _After all, wasn't this what I wanted?_

The brunette resisted the urge to bury her face in her knees and just cry, to just let all the pain out. Despite everything, despite the mission that she still needed to complete, she could only dwell on one thing: the deaths of her caretakers, Thema and Jabari. It had only been for a little while---maybe a week or two at most---but Téa had developed a bond with the both of them. They just seemed to _get_ her, to understand her without asking for any explanation as for why they did. Where she had been concerned, they were completely honest and open with her, they were true to themselves, and they never judged or assumed anything about her. Now, they were dead, gone forever.

As irrational as the thought was, she couldn't help but feel that she was all to blame for it. If only she had been more convincing, been more forceful, then maybe Jabari wouldn't have been taken and tortured to death. Maybe if she had given herself up, neither of them would have died or been hurt at all. The thought that really got her was, maybe if she hadn't been so distracted, so heartless, then she could have acted and gotten Thema out from under the rubble of the destroyed cell, and they would both be here, together and alive. She still truly believed that Thema had survived that blast, that she had only been knocked unconscious. With some proper care and attention, the woman could have recovered. Téa felt sick with the notion that she had left her for dead instead; the fact that she had no choice in that decision didn't matter.

She flat-out refused to speak to Haji again, too, no matter how many times he had tried to talk to and comfort her, and it had been _many _since she regained a state of awareness. His most recent attempt had her nearly seeing red, her fury was so great against him. If it hadn't been for the fact that she now had a very avid audience, she would have shouted aloud how much he had betrayed and lied to her for him to get the point and for herself to gain some relief. It was unnecessary. Saying it brokenly in her mind had been more than enough. He hadn't said anything to her since, though she knew he was still there in the back of her mind listening, waiting. For what, she didn't know or care.

Malik had yet to approach her, she noticed. How could she not? Even now, she could feel his stare burning into her, and while it was extremely unsettling, she preferred his intense but honestly curious stare over the lecherous leers she was getting from many others. Even Bakura's death glare was preferable to that.

She had caught Malik's eye earlier when she'd first awakened. He looked shocked to see her at first, but his features changed so suddenly to a charming little smirk that she wondered if she had merely imagined the former. As it was, his boastful, far-too-confident look sent a newfound anger to course through her, forcing her to glare at him for all she was worth. His faltered look was miniscule, but she caught it when she turned her head away, feeling oddly satisfied with herself. She refused to look at him since then, so she missed the uncertain, concerned expression that settled on his features as he began to doubt himself.

The truth was she wasn't angry at him at all, not really. She was furious with herself. As she'd looked at him, the traitorous part of herself had whispered lowly how attractive he was in the morning light, how his platinum blonde hair had seemed to glow enticingly, and how his eyes sparkled like the precious jewels their coloring was so well-known for. How could someone like that, some lost angel caught in the sun's rays, ever cause such hell in the future? The thought was a rebellious one, an anomaly that she normally would never have breathed life or paid any mind to, but it was strong enough for her to acknowledge. That was the first thing that knocked her off-kilter. She was just in the midst of dismissing the whole notion as a harmless mistake, a passing fancy of a delirious mind. But, then, he'd smiled at her.

The fact that she found that little smirk of his charming at all was a clear indiction that she possessed a sick and deprived mind. Here she was, the only survivor of her former company, sitting happily-as-you-please with people said company had just died for... She should be mourning for her friends, she should be filled with so much regret that she would feel as if she'd die from it, she _should_ want to throw caution to the winds and scream herself hoarse at Bakura for daring to take her away when Thema had clearly needed her help, she _should_ want to suffer for abandoning a friend like she had. What was sad was that, upon wakening, she _had_ felt like that; every inch of her ached with those feelings as they resounded throughout her every pore. It seemed, though, that all those feelings, no matter how powerful, no matter how righteous, no matter how deserving they were of existing could oh-so-easily be swept aside and forgotten by a pretty face and a handsome physique. Never mind the horrendous acts she'd dreamed of that same attractive visage doing in the future...

Téa had never considered herself to be a whore nor had she ever affiliated herself with that world, but right at that moment, she felt like she was no better than one if not worse. To throw away Thema and Jabari's sacrifice like she had so carelessly done, no matter how fleeting the thought had been, was nothing less than despicable in her eyes.

There wasn't much time for any more dwelling, however, not for Téa. As a tall, imposing shadow fell across her curled up form, she shoved her thoughts, her regrets, her pains aside and resolved to focus on her present. The rest could be thought more on and dealt with later. Lifting her chin off her knees, she turned her head to see what the source of her sudden darkness was. She was met with a knee being covered by navy linen pants at her eye line. Slightly taken aback, she trailed her eyes up, up, and farther to find an intimidatingly tall man standing before her. It was neither Bakura or Malik, like she'd first suspected, but that was all she could say. His face was currently being shadowed by a thick, dark hood covering his head as the matching dark-blue robe fell over his broad shoulders to his ankles, where dark sandals covered his feet. There was no shirt to speak of, though it was obvious that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. The dancer gulped audibly, her eyes wide. This, she realized as she took in the man's figure, admittedly intimidated, was the real thing. This marked her beginning of trying to save her future. It wouldn't do if she screwed it up now, either by word or deed. It didn't matter if this man was all-important or just a lowly grunt, she would need to watch herself. She would have to do that with all of them. Especially with their leaders. It was doubtable that Bakura had lost any of his lust for blood from her time to this one, and while Malik had been---dare she say---_kind_ to her before, there was no guarantee of that being a regular affair.

Taking her silence in stride, the man spoke softly to her in a low baritone, throwing her off. She expected the Ancient Egyptian, true enough, but not the muted tone with which he said it. Someone as..._broad_ as he was seemed ill-matched with such a gentle voice. She'd expected something a little more harsh. All the same, though, she remained silent. He would get the message soon enough that she couldn't understand him. She sighed tiredly. This was going to be a _long_ mission at this rate.

To her surprise, though, that didn't deter him. He began to speak again, only this time the language wasn't recognizable. Téa scrunched her brows in confusion, keeping her azure eyes on his shadowed face. She knew it wasn't Ancient Egyptian because it simply didn't _sound_ like it. When she didn't respond to this, he set off again, this time in yet another language. To her ears, it seemed to be a primitive form of Spanish.

This continued for several minutes, in which time she figured out his game. He seemed to be asking her the same thing, only in every language he knew until they both found a common ground. She knew Japanese would not be among these, so she decided to save him the trouble and address him in English. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he beat her to it.

"Please, for the love of Isis," he sighed tiredly, "tell me you understand me now."

She couldn't stop the amused smile that spread across her face. "It seems as if your goddess has answered you, sir, for I do."

He straightened up then in surprise at finally getting some headway. He turned his head over to Bakura, signaling that the interrogation could finally get started by him. She missed the subtle look he sent to Malik as well. Without further ado, he crouched down in front of her, settled himself in the sand so that his arms were perched against his crossed legs, and lifted a hand to remove his hood from concealing his face. The one that greeted her, however, sent the teenager to scramble back in surprise, giving a shrill yelp that slightly startled the peaceful horse behind her.

"Y-you!" she choked out shakily, the shock making her breathing accelerate and her heart to give a few spastic jumps of its own. "W-what are you doing here?"

The stunned, alarmed look he gave her made suspicious flags raise up determinedly in her head. As a glimmer of understanding and realization lit his features, the doubt in her earlier declaration was complete. His next words only further confirmed that she was mistaken.

"From a response like that," the deeply-tanned man declared lowly, "I can only assume that you had the unfortunate opportunity of meeting my twin brother during your," he trailed off, taking in her shackled wrists and ankles, "_stay_...at the palace."

"Your... Your twin?" Téa stated uncomprehendingly. He nodded, resigned.

"Hn, yes, my High Priest fool of a brother, Karim." He seemed to spit the name out, but there was an undertone of remorse there as well. Téa's memory revived to inform her that similar sentiments had been felt by the High Priest himself during the brief time she had been in his presence. Clearly, this unusual schism directing one brother to serve royalty and turning the other to blatantly defy it via thievery was the cause of such bitterness and regret. Beyond that conclusion, however, she was lost to their predicament, and despite how her curiosity called her to breach the subject with this man, she dared not.

She had been foolish before, but as of right now, she understood deeply how much she treasured her life and good health.

Studying the man before her, she couldn't deny that the resemblance between the High Priest and this thief was uncanny if not for the obvious difference in opulence one had easy access to while the other did not. No, wait... She narrowed her eyes in observation. Yes, she saw it. There were two other differences that clearly set the two apart. Where Karim's eyes had been as dark as a storm cloud, the man in front of her possessed eyes of a dark green that contained little flecks of yellow in the sunlight. Moreover, Karim had had straight, black hair framing his face, though she reasoned that it could have been a wig---the headpieces were popular among both genders in this country and time. This brother, however, was completely bald except for a thick ponytail that tumbled down his shoulders from the very back of his head. They were the only physical differences that she could see. The rest were merely economical.

"My name is Odion," the now-established green-eyed, bald man said, "and as you've probably guessed by now, I have been sent to find out who you are."

"Sent by who?" she asked curiously.

Odion seemed to hesitate for a beat before stating, "My master." Téa nodded in acceptance, registering Bakura in her mind though Odion's true master was a different man entirely.

Despite how patient he had been to her thus far, Téa respected the fact that he was probably in no mood for games. She was far too tired to entertain such notions as well, so she decided to spare them both any dramatics and answer each question he had for her as simply as she could. She told him everything from her alias to her made up country of origin all the way down to how she'd gotten arrested along with her hosts. If any of her answers seemed farfetched or fabricated, he gave no indication of taking them as such. The emotion she put behind each answer, she reasoned, must have turned him away from such suspicions. While she knew that much of her story was just that---a story---the experiences and the feelings behind it all were real. As Thema and Jabari's faces flashed through her mind all throughout the conversation, she was reminded of just _how_ real it all clearly was.

"Then, I saw your," she faked a hesitation for she wasn't supposed to know who Bakura was in this time, "leader about to get killed by the High Priest Seth, I believe it was. I couldn't just stand there and let it happen, and besides, I was so _angry_ at him for killing Jabari. The next thing I knew, I was trying to end him myself." Obviously a lie; she'd never intended to kill anyone in all her life, not in this past or her present and certainly not in the future, either. She wasn't that kind of person at all, but Odion and these thieves didn't have to know that. Speaking words of vengeance seemed to be the best way to get within their ranks, though, so she decided to milk it for all it was worth.

"I planned on bashing his skull in with this slab of wood I'd picked up," she continued, presenting the perfect image of a revenge-seeking wretch, "but somehow, he anticipated my movements. Oh, I hit him, rest assured. I hit him but _good_, but not soon after he struck out at me with anger of his own." She tenderly touched the spot on her face where he'd backhanded her on instinct, thankful to not feel much soreness residing there. She was just starting to get over her sunburn; it'd left her with an uneven tan, true, but she'd gladly traded away her burns for that. "Everything else is fuzzy after that. The next thing I can make out is waking up out here with all of you."

"I see," Odion stated simply, his sharp eyes never wavering from her form throughout the "interview." Téa shrugged outwardly in answer, maintaining an innocent front. Inwardly, though, she was fearing that his keen observation could pick up on all the lies and falsifications his twin's Millennium Scales had somehow failed to detect.

She still couldn't figure that one out.

"Tell me, then, Ms. Téana," he interrupted her distracted musings, causing her oceanic gaze to suddenly hone in on his own as she started, "you being foreign to these lands, what are your feelings towards the Pharaoh and his servants now? Do you believe that they were right to uphold the law in the manner that they did?"

As he finished, Téa felt everything still. They stayed sitting motionless before each other, their eyes never wavering. Odion was studying her reaction intently while also watching how she would manage to come to her answer. Téa held his gaze but felt her own eyes glaze over in contemplation. How _did_ she feel about all this, really? She knew her answer would make or break her here, so it was obvious what answer she needed to give: that she hated the Pharaoh and all he stood for, that she should have the opportunity to avenge her friends. But, how did she really feel?

It was true that the current Egyptian monarchy had a right to uphold their laws and protect their citizens, but how far should they be allowed to go to ensure that? It seems that they had no qualms about planting spies within their own ranks to weed out any insurgents, even if they were mere civilians. The way she, Thema, and Jabari had been thrown into jail cells without so much as a "by your leave" indicated that their judicial system followed the "guilty until proven innocent" wavelength, which in itself was flawed, wrong. After all, what if they had been completely innocent but with nothing to prove it to be so? They would have been executed simply for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. And, then there was the manner of how Jabari had been disposed of.

A fresh wave of nausea settled over Téa as she remembered it. She still had no idea what a Ka was or what it was used for, but torture had clearly been declared as the only way to _extract_ it, whatever _it_ was. Seth had taken sick delight in it, that much had been obvious by the cruel, gleeful look on his face as he'd dragged Jabari from the prison. Even Karim admitted to deeply disapprove of it.

She concluded that she was totally against Seth and his machinations, that much was certain, though she couldn't picture _her_ Seto ever doing anything like what his past life had done today. She was loathed to admit it, but his personality had definitely improved from one life to another, not that that was saying much. She didn't hold Karim in such high favor, either. While he didn't like what had transpired, he didn't lift so much as a finger to stop it; he'd been totally apathetic.

She could find no fault with the current Pharaoh, either. Her heart gave a curious little jump and a light blush sprinkled across her face as she remembered that Yami reigned as Pharaoh during this time. She hadn't truly registered it before nor that he was called Atemu. (She made a private note to herself to remember that for the journey back; his name, his identity meant so much to him, after all, and here she was with the answers!) She couldn't imagine her dear friend allowing any of what had happened to them to _ever _occur if he had known about it; he would have put a stop to it. If only she could have just spoken to him, she _knew _that he would have set it right!

"I never got to meet the Pharaoh, so I can't really make a judgment about him right now," Téa remarked carefully, choosing her words with delicacy in mind. These thieves had a right sore spot for the nobility, and she wasn't about to stir them up anymore than they already were. "However, I can honestly say that no love is lost between me and his High Priests, which include, if you will forgive me, that of your brother. They barely questioned my friends about their side of the story; Thema never got to speak for herself at all! And then, they just started slaughtering them, just like that! I have no doubt in my mind that they would have finished off Thema just like her husband if your group hadn't interfered. I suppose I should offer my thanks to you for that," she smiled slightly, though her bright-blue eyes remained a contradictory dull shade. The dancer licked her dry lips before speaking again, this time with growing vehemence. Téa herself was having a problem of detecting whether it was real or not. "If I could go back and give myself up for them, I'd do it unthinkingly. If I could finish those two off with my bare hands, I'd do it! If it meant I could avenge them, then... But, what am I saying? I should just keep my head down and let it go, maybe try and find my way home. After all, there isn't really anything I can do, is there?"

Téa meant the last part as a rhetorical question, to be more of a reassurance to herself if anything and to chase off the hateful feelings that were coming alive inside of her. That wasn't the person she wanted to be! Odion chose to take it as otherwise.

"That remains to be seen," came his baritone reply before he lifted himself gracefully from the sand---an impressive act for one of his size---and left her side without another word.

Téa watched him curiously, not surprised to find him reporting back to Bakura. His appearance interrupted a heated discussion that the albino and Malik seemed to have been in the middle of if their matching scowls were any indication. Odion's sudden arrival seemed to be welcomed by the both of them. The three talked quietly together for quite some time; Téa could do nothing except watch the sun's progress as the great orb climbed higher and higher in the sky as time passed and the shadows on the ground shortened. It was then that she decided to have a discussion of her own.

_Haji? You still with me?_

**If you still wish it. **

Téa allowed her shoulders to sag in defeat and exhaustion. _I do, just... Why? _It was palpable to both parties about just what she was asking.

**I knew this would be a great obstacle for us both, Téa, and I hope that someday you will forgive me for it. All I ask of you now is that you try to understand.**

The girl simply nodded at this, still too rebellious to garner up a vocal answer.

**Great though my powers may be, they are still limited for what we have to accomplish. I bended enough laws and taboos just for sending you back to a place where you're technically not supposed to be. My promise to you still stands, though: You will not die here. I will protect you. Even if everything else falls apart around and between us, always remember that that one promise WILL hold, I swear to you. It is our contract, and it is binding. **

**I knew who that man was, as I'm sure you figured out by now. I knew his purpose, just as I knew that you would be taken in the middle of the night. I can sense the blame that you are putting on yourself for this, Téa, but while it is honorable, I must tell you that it is also foolish. **

_How is it foolish to care about the fates of two people I've grown to care about? _She shot back angrily. _How can I not take the blame for it when it was because of me that they---!_

Haji interceded sternly, **Téa, enough! ****None of this was your doing! While Thema and Jabari's deaths are regrettable, they were also fated. Don't you see?**

His tone was far more gentler now, like that of a father calming a frightened child after waking from a nightmare of monsters in the closet and ghouls under the bed.

**Thema and Jabari were meant to die last night; it had been preordained before they or anyone else was even born. Whether you had been there or not would never had changed the fact that it was their time. I could not have spared them from it, either, even if I'd wanted to. If nothing else, you should take heart in the knowledge that you brought them some final joy before their passing, for I can tell you that they truly treasured it. Seeing your strength gave them their own resolve to leave this world with dignity.**

While Téa felt her heart break a little more at that confession, an odd sort of peace fell over her as well. _You really mean that?_

**Absolutely.**

_Why didn't you warn me, though? I could have prepared..._ But even that sounded weak to her. Haji shared similar thoughts.

**No amount of warning could have prepared you for that. Besides, would you have really just sat there and accepted it? Would you not have tried to do everything you possibly could to save Thema and Jabari even if it was all in vain? I have been watching you for a while now, enough to know that you would have gone through every grief imaginable to defy what already was. I decided to spare you from that.**

She sighed, then, nodding, no retort coming to mind. Acceptance stole over her. While she still didn't completely forgive him for not warning her, she knew that she would be able to in time. He had truly meant the best for her. She was smart and wise enough to notice that, no matter how much of a bitter aftertaste it left.

_So, then, what happens now?_

**From what I can see, you're doing fine on your own. They've accepted you, for the most part, though naturally you will still be tested later.**

_Tested?_ the brunette shrieked, alarmed. _Surely, this was enough!_

**Not for thieves. A very untrusting, suspicious lot, they are. You've already passed the initiation, though it's really the basest of prerequisites for them. Don't fret. You'll have plenty of help for the others. Speaking of which, that reminds me...**

_What?_

But Haji didn't respond again, and as Téa looked up from her head's lowered position, she discovered why. The camp was suddenly alive with movement, men shuffling about to and fro to reload their camp supplies onto their horses and camels. It would only be a matter of minutes before they were finished, for they had not unpacked many. Bakura was currently shouting about orders, practically daring his men to move any slower than their already frenzied pace. Odion was marching back towards her along with---her heart gave an uneasy jolt---_Malik._

_Oh, what to do, what to do!_

Before long, though, they stood before her, Odion with a blank look on his face, Malik with one of smug intrigue.

_Well, he recovers quickly, doesn't he?_ she remarked blandly, thinking of his earlier unsettled look.

"Talk to her for me?" Malik requested (Téa, of course, had no idea what he was saying, but she knew that she was involved), though the almost devilish look that swept across his face nullified his asking tone into being more of an order. Uncertainly and not without fair warning ringing in his head, Odion nodded a wordless affirmative. It was in this manner that a three-way conversation between them began.

"Well, love," Malik began silkily, "how surprised am I to find you here. You know, if you couldn't bear to be apart from me after our last encounter, all you had to do was tell me. You didn't have to get yourself arrested to get my attention."

As soon as Odion---reluctantly---relayed the message, Téa's countenance twisted into a cross between a scowl and a glare. She couldn't believe how smug he was, how arrogant! Oh, if his ego was what she had to save him and the world from, then her faith in Haji's words had just been renewed. It surely was a grim fate she needed to spare humanity from!

"Oh, believe me, _sir_," she bit back icily, "if I'd known that I would be seeing your despicable face again so soon, I would have waltzed myself back into my happy, little cell and locked the door myself!"

"Don't be coy," he smirked back, undaunted, his eyes gleaming back with a wickedness that had nothing to do with the promise of pain as her vision had implied and all to do with pleasure instead. "And don't tell me you haven't thought about it." He was being vague on purpose, both to keep Odion in the dark (for now) and to force her to remember their last meeting, no matter how much she protested against it.

"No, indeed, it's hard for me to forget an occurrence where someone tries to shove their tongue down my throat. Thank you _oh-so-much_ for reminding me, _jerk!_" she added the last under her breath, though Odion's choke of surprise easily drowned it out.

What was that she'd decided earlier about not pissing any of them off? She was very effectively breaking that vow, and so soon into the game, too. With Malik, she just couldn't help herself. Had _anyone_ even _tried_ putting him in his place before?

Malik looked annoyed that he had been revealed so early, even if it was to his self-proclaimed brother, but that quickly passed. A self-assured smirk resettled itself back on his tanned face.

"You act as if _that_ had been your first ti---Ah!" he grinned to her lazily, triumphant. "I see."

She fought to come up with a response, but a telltale blush stole over her features instead, confirming his words for him. She settled for crossing her arms over her knees and turning her head away from him defiantly.

He wasn't going to have any of that.

He gently grabbed her chin then, holding it firmly so she couldn't jerk her head away, and drew her up to a standing position, her chains clinking together with the movement. Their resulting positions left him being too close, _far too close_ to her to feel even an ouch of comfort. Odion's presence would have long since been forgotten by her if he wasn't translating; it looked as though Malik had completely disregarded him.

"You'll have to forgive me, my dear," Malik stated mock-seriously, though his eyes were laughing at her. Téa felt her hands ball into fists of rage. His pet names were _really _starting to irritate the life out of her, too! "I didn't realize that I was dealing with so delicate a creature. After all, you looked so..._loose_ before." His violet eyes swept over her form twice before settling back on her face. "Still do, as a matter of fact."

"_Kindly_," she said, barely getting it out through clenched teeth, "release me, sir."

"Malik," was his simple reply. She had to take a breath to steady herself.

"And, miraculously, my request remains the same. Release me," she said, though at an infuriatingly raised eyebrow from him, she added as an afterthought, "_Malik._"

If it was possible, his smirk widened to Cheshire cat proportions and his glee climbed to an all-time height.

"No," he practically purred out, and he pulled her even closer, "I think that I need to repair some damage that I've obviously done to you. It's the least that a _gentleman_ would do, after all."

And, suddenly, she found herself in an all-too-familiar position. She was closed in by him on what seemed to be every side of her. All she could see was him; his dancing amethyst eyes, his wild golden hair that was free this time from his hood, and his thin, mocking lips, each growing closer and closer by the second. His scent surrounded her again, all spices, parchment, and the seduction of adventure.

She knew from experience what would happen next, and there was no force on heaven or earth that would keep her from stopping it from happening again.

"You don't listen very well, do you?" she hissed before declaring with growing volume. "So, I'll spell it out simpler for you. I said for you to _let. Me. GO!_"

And she punched him. No, not slapped. _Punched._ Uncurling her fist would have required too much effort and focus on her part, plus the slap that would have resulted was admittedly far less satisfying than this. He stumbled back from her, surprised more than anything as he worked his jaw furiously, a hand placed where she'd hit him.

"Why, you ungrateful, little---"

And that's where they both stopped to pause in shock. Odion was no longer speaking for them. Malik had understood her, and she him. Another thing they noticed was that much of the men had stopped to watch the exchange going on between the two, and they all concluded one thing.

The girl had played them all for fools. She _had_ understood them before, it looked like.

"Get back to your station, Malik!" Bakura spat out, staring down his partner as he approached the three of them. "You as well, Odion!"

Malik looked as if he was going to protest, but Odion sent him a meaningful look that had him reconsider. The blonde turned his eyes away to refocus back on Téa's, an unbreakable promise lying behind them.

_This isn't over. Not by a long shot._

And then he and Odion were gone. Téa had no chance to relax as she suddenly found herself being dragged towards Bakura's horse by the chains around her wrists, courtesy of the albino himself.

"It seems you weren't being completely honest before, were you, wench? You _do_ understand us," Bakura growled, steadily crowding her around the horse.

"I swear," Téa emphasized, frightened but trying not to show it and failing, "I had no idea of how to make sense of your language before! Something inside of me just..._clicked._"

_Haji! _she yelled out, half-growling and half-moaning out in agony.

**Ah, heh, heh... Here's the help I mentioned before. Er, surprise?**

"Hn, indeed," Bakura sneered coldly before hauling her up onto the horse, not wishing to hear her prattle on anymore. He didn't care in whatever damn language it happened to be in!

This girl who called herself Téana had just put herself under his radar, Malik quickly following her. He'd never thought he'd see the day where Malik would be suspected of betraying him, but it was obvious that the two had met before. He'd practically admitted it when he was inquiring about what her fate would be. As they rode forward through the sands, Bakura making sure the ride wasn't easy for the girl, he made a silent vow to himself. This girl would be tested, he'd personally make sure of that, but it sure as hell wasn't going to be easy for her. In all probability, she would die in the attempt.

That's what he was counting on.

* * *

**A/N: Well, maybe that was up to your standards? Yes? No? You don't care? Wonderful! **

**Anyway, I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a super-special-awesome New Year!**

**By the way, Odion is Egyptian and it means "born of twins." ...It's so amazing how these plot lines just sort of write themselves, no?**


	10. Ch 10: Nesmut

**A/N: Hello, everyone! As you can see, I'm not dead or anything, and this story is still going strong. As I've explained to some of my reviewers, I apologize for not being able to update as regularly as I used to, but life has gotten in the way. My second semester of college took way more of my time than I'd anticipated, and on March 23rd, my nana passed away. It came as a shock to all of my family because it was incredibly unexpected and random, so I've had to step away from my writing for awhile and accept everything that's been happening with my life lately. However, I'm not a quitter. When I start something, I usually almost always finish it, and that includes this story. Nana had a passion for writing, also, I discovered, so that has helped me in turn become even more certain in my own love for the art. Anyway, I am back now, so let's get started!**

**Special thank you to Reviewers: daisy (thanks for your kind words. Hope you enjoy this chapter!), the-writing-vampire, Merciless Ruby, Ra'iira The Fiend, Regsd, Suseh, and Eternal Eyes.**

**Special thank you to those who Favorited/Story Alerted: Regsd, Cream-Bunny, DNAstar, athousandroses, and Candid Mango.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh. On a brighter note, Yu-gi-oh: The Abridged Series by LittleKuriboh is now back on iTunes! Guys, if you haven't watched it, do so. Subscribe. It's hilarious and I promise you won't regret it. Furthermore, it is totally, one hundred percent FREE! Nothing is better than FREE! :D**

_

* * *

_

_Chapter 10: Nesmut_

Téa tried valiantly to remain awake throughout the long ride to the thieves' hideout, if not because she wanted to have some sort of vague idea of where she was going to be located, then because she certainly distrusted the lot of them. However, combined with the state of her lingering injuries and her exhausted mind, the jerky, harsh gait of Bakura's Arabian horse proved too much for her to handle. Téa did something then that back home she'd truly never done in her short life of seventeen years but was definitely excelling at now that she had transported back in time. She fainted.

Time passed unbeknownst to the dancer, whose dreams were keeping her too busy to notice much of anything else going on around her. Later when she awoke, she would wonder if they were actually dreams or visions containing information of significance. However, she reasoned that they were just normal dreams since neither Haji or Malik's murderous alter ego were present and Téa had no direct control of her actions through the whole duration of the dream.

It started out as nothing but darkness at first. Blackness surrounded her in every direction, yet she could see herself though there was no other source of light to be found. She walked through this setting for a long time, finding nothing else in her path to illuminate. Of course, that didn't say much. For all she knew, she could have just been walking in place the entire time. Either option warranted the same result.

She was just about to turn back, grumbling to herself that she could speak whale just as efficiently as Ryou could, and she was going to prove it to Honda by eating a thousand marshmallows when she heard something. Voices.

Whispers in the dark.

She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she decided that it didn't matter. She had to hurry and get back to Yugi and the Pharaoh. They were supposed to have a duel with swords, guns, playing cards, and everything to decide who would end up marrying her or not. She didn't care either way, but she just knew she _had_ to be there.

She took two steps away from the whispers before one voice stood out from the rest, projecting itself brokenly.

_Wa-t... Plea...se- Don...o._

Téa felt her resolve to get back to her friends weakening, even though she couldn't make out the words the small voice mumbled. Slowly, she turned back towards where the voices were coming from and, after a moment's debate, she started following them. However, she began to doubt her choice the more she walked, forcing herself to stop her movements once again. No matter how many steps she took, the voices got no louder than a quiet wisp of wind brushing through long grass in a meadow, and she heard no more from the small but distinctive voice that had murmured to her before. Feeling like a fool, Téa turned her back on the whispers again and walked away. She had to get back to her friends, to her life.

_Wait! Please don't go!_

The brunette froze in place, clearly hearing the voice now, while detecting the pure desperation and panic laced in every word, though its volume still did not rise above a whisper. It sounded all the more tragic because of this, but that wasn't what finally caught Téa's attention. It was the voice of a child.

_Help me... _The voice whimpered, beginning to fade back into the darkness. _Save me from..._

Quiet. It was so quiet now, the silence deafening. The only thing Téa could hear at this point was her heart pounding in alarm, which picked up its pace when she realized what was wrong.

It was too quiet. There was nothing now. No plea of a child, no distracting thoughts of her friends, and most importantly, no other voices. They had been completely cut off.

Standing there, wide-eyed and frightened, Téa remained still a beat more before she made her decision. She spun around in the direction she'd last heard the voices and ran as hard and as fast as she could towards them.

She'd taken no more than ten paces when the darkness gave way around her. As soon as her right foot hit the ground on the seventh stride, a stone floor began to spread around her until it stopped and began to form two mud-brick walls on either side of her and a matching ceiling not too far above her head. She slowed down gradually to a halt, spinning around and taking in all that was happening around her, trying to make sense of it. Surrounding her was nothing but stones the color of dirt and burning torches lining the walls evenly every ten feet, with the smell of dusty air that had been stagnant for a very long time filling her nose. There were no windows anywhere along the corridor and, as far as she could tell, she was completely enclosed inside this place. Walking forward, she soon discovered a T-shaped intersection she could travel along in this labyrinth of stone. She wasn't entirely sure what this place was, but the only thing she could think of was that she was in some sort of underground passage. A very old, well-constructed underground passage.

She stood at the intersection of the hallway, indecisive. She could either continue walking straight, which admittedly looked as if it could continue on forever with no other turns, or she could take her chances and turn right down the newly discovered corridor. The second she drew her gaze towards the corridor to gauge if it was worth leaving her chosen path of the straight-and-narrow, she heard the voice again.

_This way! Hurry! I can't–_

It was abruptly cut off again before Téa could hear anymore. Clenching her fists at her sides, the dancer conceded that she couldn't just walk away and not help...whoever this was. In her opinion, the voice's identity didn't matter at this point. Not when they were going through such fear and torment. She ran determinedly down the corridor marveling at how it suddenly gave way to twists, turns, and what seemed like a thousand other paths and hallways. Even with the faint voice guiding her along, she found herself at several dead ends and going in circles. When the doors started appearing, it didn't make it any better.

Each door was made of some sort of old, soft wood that had been affected by time and in all probability the lack of sunlight. However, nearly every one that she attempted to go through were locked, and though they should have been easy to break down, she couldn't even manage it. The only doorways she could pass through were the ones containing no doors at all but were covered by linen clothes that she was easily able to move aside to find...nothing. Absolutely nothing but empty stone rooms. With each one, she felt increasingly frustrated and desperate. Every blunder she made in this stone maze caused her to lose more and more time saving this child that needed her. Every wrong turn spelled out a swifter end for them both, and the realization made Téa sick with fear and oncoming failure.

She was trying one final door when it happened.

Somehow, she knew that after all her searching, this was the door she wanted. It looked the same as the others in appearance, but it _felt_ distinctively different. Just as she reached for the small, wobbly doorknob, the world fell apart.

_No! _The child's voice cried in agony, becoming more warped and distorted the more it spoke. _You're too late! Why? Why did you fail! Why couldn't you save me! It's your fault! It's all YOUR fault! N-no! No! Keep away from me! Please! What are you–AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! _

The scream of pure, unadulterated pain ripped through the air and into her head, causing her to fall to her knees, clutching her head in pain. Her own cry of suffering erupted from her throat, but she knew that what she was feeling could scarcely compare to that of the child's. How could she have failed to save this child from its torment? The kid was right... It _was_ her fault that this was happening, and their downfall had been her own indecisiveness.

The pain grew so great that Téa didn't notice that her surroundings were twisting and shattering around her until only darkness remained again, and she was forced to come back to herself.

Upon awakening, the teenager discovered that the pain in her head, while not nearly as extreme as her dream, was still real. Someone was trying to wake her up by...knocking on her head and shouting, "Oy! Anything in there? Wake _up_, I said! Ra, Osiris, and Isis, I don't know _what_ Bakura was thinking, saddling me with this hussy. Haven't I done more for him than this? Ugh!"

Téa gritted her teeth towards such a nasty awakening from the woman–for it _was_ a woman speaking, she realized–before her eyes shot open, and she laid there, wide awake and grumbling, "There's no reason why you should be so rude!"

"Hm? Oh, look! The Anointed One awakens!" the woman said sarcastically and finally moved into Téa's line of sight. What struck Téa was how _young _this woman actually was. By her appearance, she looked to be Téa's age if not a bit older, but the girl had a noticeably rougher look about her. She had wild, obsidian hair flowing jaggedly down to her shoulders with a ripped, red cloth wrapped around her head as a headband. Golden, triangular earrings–the same kind Malik wore, she noticed–dangled from her ears, and dark kohl surrounded her critical, piercing cobalt eyes with red eyeshadow covering her eyelids, which were currently lowered in a glare at Téa.

She was wearing the top of what Téa could tell was a blood red, silk lehenga choli embellished with beads, sequins, and precious stones–in short, it was a top that certainly would have been worth something. It cut off just above her bellybutton, leaving her entire mid-drift exposed. Only her left arm had a sleeve, which started at her upper arm and left her shoulder bare as it billowed out to stop just under her elbow. The other arm was sleeveless, and instead of having a full, matching skirt typical of such an outfit, the young woman had abandoned it in favor of off-white, loose, linen pants that bunched together to stop at her mid-calves. Téa got the impression of them being something like Ancient Egyptian-styled capris pants. A knife holster was wrapped around her upper thigh, and golden rings adorned a few of her fingers with a few loose, golden bracelets around her wrists. She was wearing a necklace, not made out of gold like Téa was growing accustomed to expect with these thieves, but was made out of seashells. Small shells of black and white covered the string of the necklace and a little, white starfish hung as its centerpiece. It was such an innocent, fragile-looking piece of jewelry that Téa was surprised to see it on such an uncouth girl. Paying further attention, Téa finally noticed the various white scars on the young woman's arms and revealed mid-drift as they showed noticeably against her tanned skin. No, that pure necklace certainly didn't match this hardened girl; it contradicted her very being. Téa wondered if she was aware of that.

"Ra, you're a rude foreigner! You didn't hear a word I just said, did you, hussy?" the woman sneered as she rounded the small cot Téa was laying on to stand directly in front of her, hands on her hips.

Téa could feel a scowl trying to form itself on her face, but she was able to gain control of herself before it happened. Letting out a small huff, the dancer realized that she and this girl were not off to a great start. Nothing would improve between them if she just snapped right back at her, either. She needed allies and the only way to gain them in this place was to be patient and cautious.

"I'm really sorry," Téa forced herself to get out as she sat up. "I was just having this really crazy dream when you...woke me up, and I'll admit that I'm really confused right now. Where am I, anyway?"

Téa glanced around the bare room, which served as nothing more than a resting place for her; there wasn't anything much in the room besides the cot, a few lit torches, and a broken mirror leaning adjacent to her against the wall. The room itself was circular and appeared to have been carved out of the very rock that made up the walls, ceiling, and floor, an observation that quickly reminded Téa of the dream she'd just had. Téa turned her gaze back to the woman, looking for answers.

The woman ignored her question, though, as she leveled Téa with a suspicious gaze. "Hm. Well. It seems that at least something of what I said seeped into you if you're talking to me in my language now." At Téa's genuinely lost look, the woman gave a long-suffering sigh and clarified, "You growled at me in your...whatever language when I first woke you up. I merely told you to drop the act. The whole band knows that you were lying to them before, even me, and I didn't even get to go on this mission to raid the palace. I truly regret missing it now, though, considering what all they brought back."

Her pointed look at Téa gave the girl no doubts as to what kind of spoils she was really talking about. At a loss of what else to do, the dancer ran her fingers through her matted hair. She had really screwed this part of her quest up. Well, in reality, Haji screwed it up for her, but it was she who would have to deal with the consequences. Naturally.

"Look, I––" she stopped, dropping her hand from her hair and sighed for what seemed like the nth time that day. Looking straight into the woman's intense, indigo eyes, she continued, "I know there's no way or any reason at all why you should believe me when I say this but... I honestly had no idea how to speak Anc–I mean, Egyptian until today. The only languages I've been taught to speak are English and my own tribal tongue. I have no explanation for why I can suddenly understand and talk with you right now. I mean, I guess what you said before may be true, that I'm good when it comes to things seeping in, so maybe I inadvertently learned Egyptian by living with people who could speak it. But...that doesn't really work since I only stayed with them for a couple weeks. I'm not going to apologize for bridging the language barrier between us, not when in benefits us both and especially not when I'm on _your_ side. And besides––"

"Okay, okay, okay," the woman interrupted her, waving her hands in a silencing gesture. "I get it, alright? You're backed into a corner, and you feel that you have no other option but to talk your way out of it. _Don't_ interrupt me!"

She wagged a finger in Téa's face as she opened her mouth to deny the conclusion the woman had just come to. She wasn't having any of that, however.

"Listen, hussy, you don't have to convince me of anything, okay? Save any excuse you have for Bakura. You're gonna need it. Not that it will help you much, not with him. Actions are really the only things that get through to that man. He won't trust you at all until you prove it through whatever suicidal trial he puts you through, and no one else will trust you either unless he gives you some sign of approval, which is almost impossible to achieve. Believe me."

She smirked down at Téa, a contemplative look settling on her features, "Yeah, you're gonna have your work cut out for you. Should be fun to watch; the others have gotten to be so boring lately, so fresh blood should be nice, eh?"

Without waiting for any response from Téa, the woman reached down and grasped her by the forearm to abruptly but not roughly pull her up out of the cot and into a standing position. The clinking of metal brought both women to the reality that Téa was still wearing iron cuffs around her wrists and ankles, their chains glinting malevolently in the torchlight.

"Huh, that's strange," the woman said quietly, speaking more to herself than to Téa. "They usually would have removed those by now..." She moved then to send the brunette a deep look of sympathy, leaving said brunette to marvel at how quickly this woman's mood could change. "I _really_ feel sorry for you now if he's going to do what I think he's going to do."

"What? Who? You mean, Bakura? What will he do?" Téa rushed out, trying to get a grasp on why panic was suddenly rising within her. This woman's emotions were contagious to Téa; they came on so strongly that she felt compelled to follow the pull of the tide they set instead of trying to resist their oncoming waves.

"Hm? Oh! Yeah, that. Don't mind me. I'm probably just over-thinking things. I mean, why would he go to such lengths to go through with _that_ method on a hussy like you? Now, come on! He wanted to see you when you woke up."

Téa was unable to get a word in edgewise as she was promptly dragged out of the room by her forearm.

"The name's Nesmut, by the way," the young ebony-haired woman threw behind her as she continued leading Téa into what was clearly a roughly-constructed underground lair of tunnels. She quickly became lost as the woman now coined as Nesmut weaved expertly through each intersection and tunnel. "Remember it well, hussy, because I'll probably be the nicest person you'll meet here, and I only say that because I'm feeling generous today."

"Oh, well, uh, it's nice to meet you," said Téa, trying to keep up with everything that was happening. "I'm Téana from–"

"That's nice. I think I'll just call you 'hussy' from now on, though. None of the others will let me call them that like you have, and it has such a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Well, actually," Téa growled out, "I'd really prefer it if you called me by my name and not by some degrading term, you know?"

"Huh," Nesmut replied with mock understanding, "Well, _you know_, people in the Underworld want ice water. Doesn't mean they're going to get it. Ah, and here we are! Our destination at last! Quick, make yourself presentable!"

She spun around, ignoring Téa's frustrated and bewildered appearance, and began to straighten up her modern clothes. "You wear some kooky stuff. Worthy of a hussy, though. Don't scowl at me. Your face will get stuck that way, and then Bakura will see it and think you're challenging him. He'll probably kill you for it."

Nesmut examined her for a few more seconds before she gave up and shrugged. "I guess this is as good as you get, huh? Oh, well. Knock 'em dead, hussy, unless he's already in an extremely bad mood. If that's the case, grovel. Shouldn't be too hard for you."

Quicker than Téa could process all that was happening and be able to snap back at Nesmut, the woman had slapped her lightly on the cheek and pushed her through a now-opened door that she hadn't noticed before. Surprised, the dancer stumbled gracelessly inside, watching helplessly as Nesmut closed the door behind her with a mischievous grin on her face.

In the short time Téa had spent in Nesmut's presence, she had only become more confounded with questions, feeling as isolated as she had before meeting Thema and Jabari. A pang of sadness ripped through her at their memories, but she forced it back. It would be a wound that would hurt for awhile, she had to accept that, but now was not the time to dwell on it. She had an evil spirit of the Millennium Ring to face, and she was pretty sure that his mood hadn't improved a bit from the Bakura she was familiar with. He seemed to be a nasty character with or without the three-thousand-year imprisonment inside the Ring, and she would need to be smart around him, showing no weakness.

_Yeah, right,_ Téa thought despairingly, _I'm in way over my head here._

Taking a calming breath to steady herself, Téa turned towards the inside of the room, preparing to face the renowned, ruthless Thief King only to find...a well-refurbished but empty room?

Blinking rapidly a few times in confusion, Téa searched the room more thoroughly, only to confirm her previous assessment. She was the only person here; there was no Thief King to be found.

_Maybe Nesmut took me to the wrong room? _she wondered. _But, no, she couldn't have. She looked to know her way around too well. But, wait... What was that look she gave me before about? She couldn't have–no, she _wouldn't_ have taken me to the wrong room on purpose. Sure, we got off on the wrong foot earlier, and she hasn't been that nice to me, but she hasn't been downright mean, either. She understands what kind of threat Bakura is, too. She wouldn't deliberately set me up. Would she?_

Uncertainties flashed through Téa's head, while she nearly broke down with worry. She was used to blindly trusting people. Even if she got taken advantage of and hurt because of it, it didn't really matter to her because she had always had someone else to depend upon. It was a totally different story here; no one was going to go out of their way to help her and everyone was going to take advantage of her when and if they could. She _had _to understand that if she wanted to survive and get back home. She couldn't depend on Haji to do everything for her in concerns for her safety. All the same, the desire to give people the benefit of the doubt kept her in that room and in her place, waiting anxiously for Bakura to arrive. Old habits were hard to break, and it would take much to break Téa of her trusting, friendship-oriented nature. It may even be impossible to do. Either way, she was sure that she would find out if that was the case in due time.

* * *

Bakura and Malik had no time to confront each other about the newcomer when the band finally arrived at their hideaway. Each was too busy overseeing that the lower-ranking thieves took care of any treasure they'd recovered the way their Code dictated. Every thief was allowed to keep one item of his or her choosing to be used in whatever way they wished, so long as it was something that they had personally stolen and that everything else would be added into the main treasury. Each additional item would then be recorded down and sorted into their proper categories (such as jewelry, idols, weapons, decoration, and not-really-sure-what-this-is-but-it-sure-is-shiny) by the most trusted thieves. Usually, Odion, Nesmut, Ezekiel, and a few others would see to this, but Bakura had a special assignment to bestow to one of them instead.

"You are my most trusted friend next to Malik, Nesmut," he said to the now smug-looking young woman, settling a glare at her as if it was all her fault that he had to admit such a declaration. "I can see no one else performing this task better than you. A girl around your age, I believe, was taken from the palace during our raid. She claims to be a sympathizer to our cause, but something about her has me on edge. She's hiding something, and I want to know what it is and if it is a threat to us. I won't have some little slut of a spy of the Pharaoh knifing us all in the back if it can be avoided."

"Understandable," Nesmut nodded before smirking patronizingly at her leader, "but what exactly do you want me to do? Spin her a tragic story about my past so that I can get her to trust me? Fuzzy her up with some nice girl talk? Maybe do each other's hair and plot little horrid tricks to pull on the rest of the boys here? Actually, I might convince her to do that last one, anyway. It sounds fun."

Bakura sneered. "You _would_ think that. I don't really care what you do, Nesmut, just so long as you see where her true loyalties lie. I want to know why she lied to us about misunderstanding us earlier, although I think I can get that out of her myself. Ask her about it anyway and report to me her response." His harsh features melted into a charmingly wicked smirk rarely seen on his features. "Although, since you asked, you shouldn't really do anything out of the ordinary. Just be yourself, Nesmut. I'm sure that after hearing your fucked up self talk for any length of time that she'll come clean about anything if only to get away from being around you."

"Oh, bite me, Bakura." Nesmut rolled her eyes, being far too used to her and Bakura's strange form of friendship. It relied on brutal, naked, I-didn't-ask honesty, which used just enough effort to speak their peace but not enough for them to actually care about what the other had to say. It was a relationship of commitment without the actual commitment, which was just fine with either of them.

"We tried that once before, remember?" Bakura replied, sounding completely uninterested. "It'll never work between us. It's about time you got over it."

"Ugh, go take it in the bum," she grumbled under her breath, noticing how Bakura returned from glaring at a subordinate to fix his gaze back on her.

"What was that?"

"I said, 'where's the girl at, dum-dum?'"

"Hn. Go ask Odion. He was supposed to take her to one of the spare resting rooms."

"Feh. Fine." She nearly walked away before she remembered to ask him a vital question that had been burning her ever since he'd even _implied_ that this mystery girl could be a traitor. "And, what do you want me to do if she says anything suspicious or potentially threatening to our cause?"

Bakura was silent for less than a beat before his response came.

"Kill her."

Sometime later, after the chaos from the treasure-sorting was over and the thieves' celebration began, Bakura intercepted Malik and silently ordered the blonde to follow him. The walk to Bakura's rooms was silent, and the albino didn't make an attempt to address his right hand man even when they had settled themselves into his more secluded backroom, which contained no elaborate decoration besides a wooden table and a few chairs.

Malik made no move to speak to Bakura either. He recognized what Bakura was trying to do, and while it admittedly unnerved the blonde to see him display this faux-calm attitude, Malik knew better than to let anything but disinterest show on his countenance. Otherwise, Bakura would strike out like a cobra the minute he saw it. No answers would pass Malik's lips unless Bakura specifically asked for them; he sure as hell wouldn't give him any more information concerning himself and Téana than what he wanted to share.

It wasn't long before Nesmut appeared before them, using a hidden, back entrance that they'd discovered concealed in the room's far wall. They'd deduced that it had once been manufactured as an escape route, but not much more than that could be deciphered from it.

"Well, Nesmut? What did you find out?" interrogated Bakura.

Nesmut reported everything Téana and she had discussed almost verbatim, switching into a purely businesslike mood. Not one ounce of the joking, devil-may-care attitude was attributed to her now, though she knew that many people, including Téana, would call her behavior as otherwise. Obnoxious and rude were the two frontrunners that came to mind.

"In short, she seems nice enough. Honest but pretty damn clueless. A pushover, really. Regardless if she's a sympathizer or not, I don't think she realizes what she's getting into."

"Hm, we shall see," Bakura replied, unknowingly echoing Odion's words he'd earlier addressed towards Téana. "I'll question her about her language slip up as well and see if she manages to give a similar response. Where precisely is she now?"

"Waiting in the main room, like you asked," Nesmut answered dutifully.

"Good. Well, then, Malik, it's time you formally introduced me to your lovely _friend_ and explained to me what exactly the deal is between you two. In the meantime, Nesmut, fetch me some hot irons."

Bakura remained unperturbed as both Nesmut and Malik jerked their heads toward them in surprise.

Nesmut asked hesitantly, "B-but, is that really necessar–"

"_Now!_" was the growled out reply, which was laced with so much impatience and hidden fury that any argument on Nesmut's part quickly died. She still saw the hot irons as being _a bit_ too extreme, but that was Téana's problem now, not hers. Sure, Nesmut conceded, she seemed alright and Nesmut liked her well enough; she was amusing, yeah. But, still, they were barely acquaintances, and Nesmut wasn't about to stick her neck out for someone she didn't even know. Without any more fuss, she left the room the way she'd come before.

* * *

Téa had been gazing around the room, taking in all of the exquisite artwork and opulent furnishings with barely concealed appreciation and guilt. After all, while nearly everything in the room was sheer loveliness, nothing could change the fact that each and every item had the large, ugly blot of _stolen_ poured all over them. People had probably lost their homes or their lives over these possessions, in some cases both. In the end, was it really worth it? And to think, Haji wanted her to conform to this lifestyle, at least for the moment. Easier said than done.

The more she looked at the magnificence of it all, the dirtier she felt. It hadn't escaped her notice that she was still wearing her grimy, sticky, bloodstained clothes from the future–all thanks, once again, to Bakura–and she was painfully aware that she had nothing else to her name except for these very gross, very ruined clothes on her back. She dropped her guard to stare longingly at an odd assortment of garments that were piled up in one corner of the room, each looked even more splendid than the next. Almost in a trance, she moved steadily nearer to them, trying to take them all in and determine what they were. Not completely realizing what she was doing, she reached out her hand to feel one particularly sleek-looking cloth when another door she hadn't noticed banged open towards her right.

"Well, well, well, it seems that our newest member has been messing with things that don't belong to her _in the slightest_," a dark voice snarled out. Téa snapped her head around to find the source of the voice, the rest of her body being locked in an embarrassing deer-in-the-headlights phase. As she found Bakura's blazing, crimson eyes settled on her, Malik's intense, amethyst stare following close behind, she suddenly understood how Suzaku Fujiokai had felt after their second grade teacher caught him cheating on a spelling test.

Dread filled every portion of her being, and she was mortified to feel her face flush hot, only confirming what Bakura had just said.

No use denying it now. Téa Gardner was in some deep, deep trouble, and she really had no idea how she would get herself out of it this time.

* * *

**A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed that! I know, I know. No Malik/Téa action AGAIN, but no worries! Next chapter will have oodles of Malik/Téa/Bakura threesomes and then Malik/Téa aloneness! ...Okay, I just reread that. Yeah, I know how perverted it sounds, and it probably has significantly raised your expectations of me. Do yourself a favor and lower them a bit before you get hurt! I'm only concerned for your safety!**

**Fun fact: On the character of Nesmut - I wasn't planning on adding her until I found a site on the subject of Ancient Egyptian women. There was a little blurb on the site about crime and how it related/affected women, and waaaaay at the bottom of this was gold. Apparently, a woman known only as Nesmut was once accused of being a criminal and a graverobber, if I remember everything correctly. However, there wasn't enough evidence to prosecute her, so the Egyptian authorities were forced to pardon her and let her go. Again, it amazes me how these plot points write themselves.**


	11. Ch 11: Burn

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. School's been hell. Enjoy!**

**Special Thank You to Reviewers: HiddenSoul, Mizuki hikari, Ryu Sayuri, EgyptianSoul.88, Midsummer'sQueen, the-writing-vampire, Suseh, Daisy, and Merciless Ruby.**

**I apologize that I probably haven't replied to the wonderful reviews all of you sent me for various chapters. I've just been so busy that I've hardly had any moments to myself and my own writing. Please just know that I love and appreciate every single one of them and every single praise and critique they gave me. Going back and rereading them kept me always thinking about this story and fired up to continue writing it. Again, having time was really the issue.**

**Special Thank You to those who Favorited/Story Alerted: angel0fdestiny, girlrock250297, Mariklover222, Midsummer'sQueen, Amestriss, EgyptianSoul.88, and Snowmiddy.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Word to ya mutha, ho ho ho, and stuff.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Burn

Téa felt her tired and starved body begin to tremble as she tried to face down the hateful stare Bakura was boring into her. His expression, however, was too terrible, too animalistic for her to look at for very long, and––knowing that it was probably unwise to do so––she dropped her eyes away from his form altogether to see that her hand, which was causing the man such offense, was still stretched out towards the clothing materials that were now so clearly declared as _his. _Finally realizing this, she snatched her hand back as if a cobra had lunged for it, crossing her arms in front of her in a defensive gesture. Her efforts were fruitless. In Bakura's eyes, the damage had been done, and she looked the very embodiment of guilty.

Not able to bear the tense, enraged silence any longer, Téa attempted to explain herself, saying in a shaky voice, "I–I just––"

_"Silence, slut!" _Bakura snarled out, beginning to stalk slowly towards her. Téa flinched, dimly thinking that, as a master thief and a murderer, Bakura wasn't exactly fit to label _anyone_ with a degrading name, much less her. Instead of unwisely voicing this aloud, the brunette took a step back for every move he made in her direction, her attention focused solely on his progress. Eventually, she staggered backward, bumping into the pile of clothes that had started this whole fiasco, and fell into them. She could tell from the murderous flash in his crimson eyes that her reaction certainly hadn't helped matters, and she realized that she was choking on her fear of him. Even when she had been captured by the Pharaoh's soldiers, locked into a cell, threatened with Thema and Jabari's deaths, and watching as the palace was blown apart from real life Duel Monsters_, _she hadn't been this scared. Recalling all of that, though, allowed her to remind Bakura of one crucial thing about her, the one thing that could possibly save her from his wrath when it was clear to her that nothing and no one else would.

_"I saved you!"_ she cried out desperately, uncaring that panic coated her voice even more thoroughly than Mai's thick nail polish covered the blonde's nails.

The entire room froze at her statement, Malik staring at her with a mixture of confusion and wonderment. Hearing that a seemingly innocent, civilian girl had saved the life of the infamous Thief King wasn't a story one heard…ever. Maybe, she truly was one of them after all.

Téa noticed none of this, only thankful that her reminder had stopped Bakura in his advances. She noticed that his eyes had lost their look of bloodlust and had changed to a far more natural, but hardened gray color. Refusing to move from her spot lest it attracted his fury again, she continued to speak, in a much more softer tone, "Your–your life. I saved your life."

Once it was apparent that Bakura was going to remain speechless, too busy examining the girl with newfound yet begrudging intrigue, Malik felt it was now safe to speak on Téana's behalf. "Perhaps, her boldness is a good sign, Bakura. So many thieves we've come across recently have no spine, no courage when it comes to facing off their fears…or _you_, for that matter. Personally, I find most of them truly dull, even during a job. I can almost see myself dying from sheer boredom if you never returned from one of your outings and left the poor idiots to me. With her, well, things will be a lot more lively around here, not to mention she could be useful in the field. She amuses _me_, at any rate."

"This isn't about your amusement, Malik," Bakura grumbled, though Malik did raise a crucial point. Being a thief was about being spontaneous. A good thief constantly surprises his opponents; an exceptional thief takes risks and has no fear in regards to the consequences of these risks. He was loathe to admit it, but this slip of a girl had more potential at being an exceptional thief like Nesmut, like Odion, even like Malik and himself, than most of the men he'd come across in his entire life. Unfortunately, in his eyes, she had far more important problems about herself, which would probably lead to her demise before she reached that potential. Namely… "Nothing changes the fact that she tried to steal what was _mine_, Malik. No thief, no _man_ with an ounce of intelligence, would dare do something so foolish."

"You're exaggerating." Malik shrugged, knowing that Bakura was just grasping at his subsiding anger to find excuses for himself. "It's not like she was going after jewels or gold. She was looking at _clothing_, for Ra's sake! Typical for a _girl_," he smirked at her, and she couldn't help glaring back. "Besides, look at her! Can you blame her for being tempted to try and get something better? That's _your_ blood on her clothes, as I recall. Honestly, I've seen drowned cats that look better than she does right now––"

"Malik, shut up," Bakura bit out, walking towards her again. Even though he seemed far more calm now, Téa still couldn't help tensing up in nervousness. When he grasped her arm, she recoiled slightly, and she nearly fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap, tripping over the chains around her feet as Bakura flung her towards the middle of the room and away from his possessions. She regained her footing in time and turned back to face him, noting, relieved, that none of the dried blood on her clothes stained any of the clothing materials she'd touched. "If it's really such a concern for you, I'll find her something suitable to wear. In the meantime, girl, ask Nesmut for clothes to borrow. I'm sure she won't object."

_In other words, _Téa thought, _she wouldn't dare object_.

"After that," he continued, "do not ever bother me about this nonsense again, or I _will_ rip your throat out next time. Understand?"

Téa did the only thing she could do in this situation. She nodded her acceptance and hoped that this meeting would end soon so she could get away from both of them. It wasn't that she wasn't thankful for Malik's interference; she was just wondering where that so-called chivalry was when Bakura looked like he was about to tear her head from her shoulders not five minutes ago.

"Sit," Bakura barked, taking his place in a makeshift throne at the head of the room. Malik settled himself at the end of a divan, leaving Téa to either sit directly next to him in the middle or on the last seat at the other end of the divan, closest to Bakura. Neither particularly appealed to her, but she had no choice but to pick her poison. She decided to sit beside Malik since he certainly seemed to be the man who was least likely to attack her, at least outside of her dreams.

"Now, enough wasting time." Téa repressed a scowl at that. _He_ had been the one who'd pitched a fit and––oh, forget it! "I need to know where your allegiances truly lie, girl, and don't think I've forgotten about the trickery you pulled with your little language stunt. Despite what you may have heard about us thieves, deceit is not appreciated between us."

"We take it kinda personally," Malik agreed, smiling charmingly. "The key is, if you're going to lie, don't ever get caught. Then, you have no problems." She suddenly wondered how many times he'd told his own deceits to people. Judging from his unrepentant attitude, it was probably _a lot_.

"Stop giving her advice, fool," Bakura said, exasperated. "Now, I'm going to ask you myself: why did you feel the need to deceive us? And, I warn you, make it believable, or you die here and now."

Wondering how many more death threats she would get in this day alone, Téa wearily retold her story, almost verbatim from what she'd told Odion and Nesmut. After hearing the same account for the third time, Bakura was forced to accept that she was telling the truth, as strange as it seemed. That, or she really was a flawless liar. Staring at her wide, blue eyes, though, the Thief King quickly derailed that assumption. There was still too much naiveté there, too must of a trusting, compassionate personality; it was written all over her face, clear as day. An expert liar would never have that kind of look. Such innocence was too far beyond such a person, too far beyond him or any other thief in his whole band.

"Very well. I accept your explanation, though it still sounds like the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. All I have left to ask is, what makes you think you have what it takes to join us? Why do you want to join us in the first place? It's obvious that you are no killer, despite how you have pretended to be." Bakura rested his arms on the arms of his chair and leaned back, waiting for what would no doubt be an intriguing answer. Malik's gaze never left her, anxious to here her explanation as well.

Téa closed her eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. _Alright, Haji, you're on._ Together, they began to weave a simple tale of her past back in Troy, though some of it wasn't as fabricated as Téa pretended that it was.

"If you're really want to know" she paused, starting again. "If you're really going to understand why I've been looking for you, you'll need to know a few things about me. Around two weeks ago, I woke up in the desert, on the outskirts of the town we've just come from. I don't really know how I got there or how I even got to this country. I only vaguely remember how life for me was like back in…Troy." She swallowed, hoping neither of them had noticed her hesitation. She had almost said, "Japan," before she remembered herself. "I remember that I wasn't, exactly, happy there. As the only daughter of my family, I was expected to adhere to certain…principles, principles which I didn't fully agree with. But, it didn't matter if I agreed with them or not because my future was being planned without me. Life was moving on, and I felt like I was being left behind. And I hated it. I hated that I couldn't fully understand everything that was happening around me, I hated that I couldn't stop it, I hated that I couldn't dictate my own destiny. Instead, other, more powerful people were doing that for me, when in truth, I know, I _know_ that they didn't have the right––"

Téa forced herself to stop. For some reason, she felt like crying. She didn't know it, then, but Haji was drawing from Téa's innermost thoughts and feelings to provide an outline of truth to this so-called false past. In actuality, it was only the place that was false. All these feelings of having a lack of control, a lack of understanding, of helplessness, she had begun to experience while in Japan, in the future. Ever since Yugi solved the Millennium Puzzle, in fact, nothing had ever really been the same, and it scared her. With all the talk of danger and magic and destiny, she was feeling unneeded, not because Yugi or her other friends didn't want her around, but because she had just become obsolete in comparison to a grander design, a design she couldn't even begin to be a part of. Even now, being a "chosen one" of Haji's, she still felt insignificant and separated from the larger picture. A means to an end, nothing more. But, she didn't understand this yet.

"I'm sorry," she chuckled nervously. "That was _incredibly_ vague, wasn't it? But, I don't know any other way to explain it. In that other life, I just felt––"

"Trapped," Malik added unexpectedly. "Suffocated. _Chained_." He looked pointedly to the shackles still around her wrists and ankles. "Like so many others forced to bend to a society that is out to oppress them and regulate everything they do, and like so many others, you long for something better. You long for…power."

She met his eyes, then, fully met them and was stunned by the intense knowledge shining in their violet depths. It was as if he understood how she was feeling even better than she did.

"Yes," she agreed slowly, before rushing to amend one little thing about his deduction that bothered her, "but, I only want power over myself, over my own life. I don't believe I have the right to hold power over anyone else."

Malik shook his head. "If you truly believe that, then those people who dictate your life will always dictate your life. It doesn't matter where you run to, what group you join, or what you believe in; they will always be there. If you really want to be the master of your own destiny, you will eventually have to show them that you are more powerful than they are in order to be free. The only way to do that is to exercise your power, early and often."

"And risk becoming just like them in the process," Téa asserted. Malik smirked and bowed his head in concession.

"Possibly."

"Enough," Bakura interrupted, tired of hearing such foolish notions. "So, the girl wants to escape from the ties that bind her so stiflingly, and to do that, she thinks her best bet is the Thief King's band of miscreants. _Pathetic._"

He rose from his chair, coming to loom over her. Téa stiffened, both from his insult and his proximity. What was he going to do? Kill her? Or something worse?

"Listen to me, wench." Bakura leaned down, grabbing her chin to force her to look him in the eyes. He was tired of her cowardice. "I can tell I was wrong before. You don't know what you've stumbled into here. You are not one of us, and you don't belong here. There's no doubt that, back in your homeland, you never knew a bit of strife, of _real_ pain and sacrifice like what all of us have felt at the Pharaoh's hand. You're just another spoiled, pampered hussy, who thinks the world owes her far more than what she's due, but I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to send you on a boat back to Troy, back to your cushy lifestyle that you're so thankless for, and be done with it. Consider any misery or suffering you experience there sufficient payback for thoroughly wasting my life."

He released her abruptly and stalked off. He looked like he was about to quit the room entirely, and it was at that realization that Téa knew she had to act quickly to change his mind.

She sprang up from her seat, chains rattling all the while. "Wait!"

Bakura stopped but he didn't seem to feel obligated to turn back and look at her.

"Whoever said I haven't experienced the sting of the Pharaoh's hand like the rest of you have? Remember, I've lived directly under his rule, in his city for two weeks now, and remember, it was in _his_ cells I was locked in!"

The Thief King eventually turned around, his expression conveying that he would rather be anywhere but listening to her, but she _had _managed to snare his attention. He waved at her impatiently before crossing his arms. "Continue."

Téa was about to begin speaking again, until Nesmut and Odion entered the room behind Bakura. The couple suddenly had the attention of the room's three inhabitants, and Nesmut, sensing the tense, awkward atmosphere, had the grace to look sheepish while slyly moving to hide something behind her back.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the ebony-haired girl grinned apologetically. "Are we, uh, interrupting something? Well, don't mind us. Odie and I will just pretend to be furniture."

Odion scowled, ever regretful that Nesmut remembered to call him such an embarrassing nickname, but remained silent. Téa fought a smile and nodded to them both in recognition.

Getting Bakura's attention again, she continued where they'd left off. "Granted, I've never seen the Pharaoh since coming here, so it sounds a little unfair to blame him for everything. At the same time, those guards and those horrible High Priests especially were under his direct orders, weren't they? When I ran into Malik," she gestured to him, "he was trying to escape from some guards, as a matter of fact. I saw what was happening, so I decided to, uh, help hide him so he could escape." She pointedly avoided glancing at Malik when she said that last part; the smugness wafting from him was almost palpable. "They were only doing their jobs, but at the same time, four against one didn't seem fair at all. _Nothing_ about the Pharaoh's justice system seems fair, I've experienced that firsthand.

"Although," she reflected, "that High Priest you fought, Seth, was doing something that the Priest Karim said the Pharaoh wouldn't like, so there's obviously more corruption going on there that's completely unrelated to the Pharaoh."

Every thief in the room perked up at this. "And what was this something?" Bakura asked, incredibly interested yet he hid it well.

Téa closed her eyes in concentration, trying to remember. "I'm not sure, really. They used a lot of terms I'm not familiar with at all. Maybe if I start at the beginning, it would help?" Sensing the white-haired man's building impatience, the dancer hurried on with her tale. "I was staying with a married couple when the three of us were arrested. Thema and Jabari. They housed refugees or anyone that needed protection, even if it was protection from the law. They were doing it because they were looking for information about where they're son was. He ran off and joined a group of thieves years ago, so they thought if they could find the right thief, they could find him again.

"Well, Jabari brought home a man needing shelter, a man claiming to be a thief from your group. But, he wasn't. He was a con man hired to find people like them to hand over to the Pharaoh's guards for a reward. I was knocked out, but when I woke up, we were in different cells.

"And that's when _he_ came in, Seth. He started talking to Jabari, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. When Seth left suddenly, Jabari told me he was leaving to get a translator for me. It wasn't long before he returned with Karim, who had these…" she trailed off, looking like she was thinking about how to describe something, but in reality, she was confirming with Haji that it would definitely _not_ be a good idea to mention that she knew about the Millennium Items and what they truly were. "I don't really remember now, but he had these golden, scale things. He said they would measure my soul."

"The Millennium Scales," Bakura confirmed. Ignoring her faux-questioning look, he motioned for her to keep talking.

"Right. Well, he asked me who I was, where I was from, and if I was aware of my friend's crimes of being thief sympathizers. I answered as honestly as I could while still speaking up for them. In the end, it was all for nothing. By staying truthful, Karim deemed me innocent, but my friends were still condemned. They were supposed to be beheaded but––"

Téa's words chocked her as the sadness, anguish, and disgust of that night hit her again, full-force. From everything going on, she had been able to forget that she was supposed to be grieving, but reliving the event easily and swiftly brought it all back. She had to finish the story, though. She had to convince Bakura to let her stay, that she wanted to achieve her vengeance because even she was steadily starting to believe that she deserved it now. Against Seth. Regaining her composure, the brunette steadied herself, speaking clearly but angrily.

"But then Seth interfered. He dragged Jabari from his cell and took him into another room. Karim told me what was going on, that he didn't like it, but since Seth was the Pharaoh's right hand, he couldn't do anything to stop him. He told me that, instead of beheading them, Seth was using torture to…to…take something from him. God, what was it? Ka?"

"Ka!" Nesmut exclaimed, alarmed. "Ka! Are you sure? Did a monster appear after that?"

"Well, I didn't see any monster, because around that time, you all started attacking the palace. Seth ran back in, and I gathered that––that Jabari's torture hadn't lasted long and the monster had only been a weak one. I don't know anything more than that."

"_Ra_," Nesmut breathed shakily.,"Isis, and Osiris! I've heard a lot of terrible things coming out of that place, but I didn't know they were doing this! Extracting people's Ka from them, and these people being civilians at that!" She turned worriedly to Bakura, her gaze darting around to everyone in the room. "Imagine what they'll do to _us_ if they catch any one of us, what they'll _get_ out of us! Our most prized monsters, the monsters of our souls, and they'll be working for _them!_"

"But, I still don't get it. What is a Ka, and how are you able to summon these monsters anyway?" Téa questioned. "I've never seen anything quite like it in my life!" That was true. Compared to the real thing, holograms couldn't cut it anymore.

"Explain that later," Bakura cut in. "What we need to start worrying about is why Seth is doing this in the first place. It's obviously not on the Pharaoh's orders, or Karim would have been involved as well."

"Maybe Seth is tired of being second best," Malik smirked, though inwardly he was disturbed by what Téana had discovered. "Could be he's trying to gather up and army of monsters to overthrow good, ol' Atemu. How funny would that be to watch?"

"An army wouldn't matter," Bakura said. "It would take care of the other priests but not the Pharaoh's God Monsters. He must be looking for a Ka from a human strong enough to stand against them, only he isn't getting much luck so far. We'll just have to keep a watch on him. He could be useful in the future."

"If you're suggesting on befriending him," Téa spat before she could stop herself, "don't count on me cooperating. He's going to pay for what he did to my friends. He's nothing but a monster!"

A dark smile curled Bakura's lips. "Befriending him sounds a bit much. Manipulating him until he's no longer useful is more accurate. After that, girl, feel free to slit his throat yourself. I'll even give you the knife to do it with if you need it."

"I'll hold you to that." It crossed Téa's lips before she could stop it. The most shocking thing to her was finding that she truly meant it. What was she becoming by being in this world? Whatever it was, it seemed it had impressed Bakura.

"Very well. I withdraw my previous offer. You will remain with us. However," he glared at her threateningly, "don't consider this an open invitation. I do not trust you in the slightest, wench. You'll start at the bottom of the ranks, just like all the others, and you'll prove yourself in time or die trying. I don't care what you do; just don't even think about betraying us or challenging me, and we should get along just fine, hn?"

"Right. I'm just glad to know you finally believe that I have what it takes, though. And in case you forgot," she couldn't help but add again, smiling slightly, "I _did_ save your––"

"Yes, yes!" He waved off, clearly agitated that he would have to acknowledge that fact.

"Doesn't that mean you owe her a life-debt in return, Bakura?" Malik spoke up, the image of smugness. "A gentleman _always_ upholds life-debts, and we are nothing if not gentlemen, hmm?"

Through her surprise at finding out such a code was followed by Malik _and_ Bakura, she watched tensely as Bakura looked like he wanted to lunge himself at Malik. Odion listened on, curiously, and Nesmut looked like Christmas had come six months early.

"You mean to tell me," she laughed, "that little Miss Priss over there _saved_ your tanned ass? Oh, that is too _precious!_"

"Nesmut, you will hold your tongue before I introduce your own ass to my hand."

"As if that introduction has never been made before," she grinned. "They're _very_ good friends, I'd say."

Téa felt her face heat up in embarrassment at the innuendo, while watching Bakura anxiously, worried that he would decided to punish her for bringing up such a sensitive topic. He looked annoyed enough to do something drastic. A moment later, though, his anger vanished to be replaced by a self-satisfied smirk, ignoring Nesmut's comment.

"I believe," the white-haired thief said, "that debt has already been repaid."

"What?" Téa interjected. She wasn't about to let him cheat his way out of this. If he owed her a save, then she definitely wanted to have that security under her belt. "Since when?"

"Since I carried your unconscious and apparently ungrateful ass out of the burning, falling remains of the palace," Bakura shot back, still smirking. "If I had left you there, there's no doubt Seth would have had his way with you once he regained consciousness, and no method he's ever thought of to deal with our kind has ever been pleasant, I can promise you that. You'd have gone the same way as your friends, and he wouldn't have rushed the process as he did with the peasant. "

"Come off it," Malik laughed. "You didn't save her because you were concerned for her well-being. You saved her 'cause you were curious, same as the rest of us."

"Doesn't change the fact that I still saved her, though, does it? My debt has been repaid."

Deal closed, then. Téa deflated with disappointment. There was no denying that she could have really used having the Thief King owing her a life-debt; even she wasn't above using that to her advantage.

"Now that that business has been cleared, Nesmut," Bakura turned to her, "go to the back room. You'll find that the fire is waiting for you."

"You got it." Nesmut proceeded to pass Téa to get to the back room Bakura and Malik had previously come out of, and that's when she noticed the irons in her hands. The girl suddenly became very uneasy as a sense of dread settled over her, and Malik suddenly went tense and very silent.

"Um, what are those for?"

"Why," Bakura smiled darkly, "for you, of course. Consider this your first trial, girl. To be a thief, you'll need to grow accustomed to considerable pain, and I know you don't have much experience in that front. If you cannot handle this little trifle, there is no way you could truly become one of us. You would only be a liability, and if that's the case, then I would just rather kill you now."

"So, you're going to _torture_ me?" Téa exclaimed, already looking for a place to run. Malik rose and placed himself behind her, grabbing her arms and raising them slightly. The iron bands around her limbs came to her full attention, and it suddenly dawned on her what was going to happen next. "There––there isn't another way?"

"Even if there was, I wouldn't do it. The only way to get through those shackles without a key is to burn through them. There will be potential scarring and a lot of pain, I can promise that." Bakura chuckled ominously.

"Bakura," Malik said, trying to reason with him. "Maybe this is a little drastic. At least let me knock her out first––"

"If you don't have enough spine to do this, Malik, send one of the others in; I'm sure they'd _love _to be a part of this."

Bakura stared at Malik challengingly, daring him to leave. If he did, longtime partner or not, he would be severely punished for it. Malik instinctively knew this; not only could his cowardice cost him his life but also it could cost Téa anything from a limb to her own life. Most of the others were like Bakura when it came to causing pain: it didn't matter who, it didn't matter why, just so long as they could inflict the blows. The difference was, unlike the others, Bakura knew when to stop, when to regain control. He just rarely chose to show that kind of mercy. Knowing this, Malik had no option but to stay. Besides, he owed it to her after she'd, as she put it, _helped_ him escape from those guards so many days ago.

"Rethought your platform, have you?" Bakura mocked. "Wise choice, Malik. This'll be a learning experience. For all of us, I'm sure. Now, _restrain her!_"

_"NO!" _Téa screamed, thrashing and kicking anything she could reach in a blind panic, but between Odion and Malik's strength, she didn't have any real chance of escaping. That didn't stop her from screaming, however.

"I really am sorry about this, love," Malik whispered in her ear soothingly, "but there's nothing else we can do. Just hold on. It'll eventually be over."

**He's right, Téa, **Haji said, the conviction behind his voice putting a damper on her screams. **Pain is only in the mind. It cannot last forever, and don't forget, you have me. I'll always be here. If the pain becomes too much for you, I'll help you through it. So, please, don't be afraid.**

Hyperventilating but believing Haji and even Malik, Téa took several deep gulps of air, trying to calm down, but it was no use. She was terrified of what was about to happen. She hadn't given much thought to how they'd be able to get these shackles off without a key of some sort, but she would have never guessed they would do this, that they would try to _burn_ them off.

Odion and Malik practically carried her to a small table in another section of the room. Bakura cleared its surface with one sweep of his hand, uncaring as miscellaneous items scattered and crashed onto the floor. The thought of violence was already improving his mood.

"Don't bother trying to find bindings. Just hold her still when the time comes," he ordered.

Every second seemed to last fifty years to Téa as she was feverishly hoping that Nesmut would never come back with the hot irons. She was gravely disappointed when she saw the rough but graceful girl eventually return, the end of the iron rail glowing orange with what looked like hellfire to her. Wordlessly, Nesmut passed it off to Bakura, refusing to look at him or at Téa. She still couldn't believe Bakura would use a method like this so soon. He must really have it out for the girl. Malik was of a similar opinion as he felt her body shake violently under his hands, though she had stopped shrieking. He watched, helpless, as her oceanic eyes locked firmly onto the hot irons and refused to move.

Téa was, without a doubt, nearly out of her mind with fear; she had no idea what was coming next, what the pain would be like, and the fear of the unknown was almost as bad to her as the actual trial would be. She could vaguely feel Haji's presence in the back of her mind and Malik's strong hands on her arms and strangely felt reassured, even comforted. Bakura's voice brought her back from her panic, anchoring her back in reality for one last moment.

"This," he smiled cruelly down at her, his eyes blazing with the beginnings of bloodlust again, "is going to hurt like hell."

"No," Téa begged, and she felt no shame for it. This was serious. "NO, _please!_" Her many cries and pleadings refused to sway him, however; he was immune to such things.

But, Nesmut wasn't. If the girl was going to receive any mercy whatsoever, she was the only one who would or could show it to her. Fiddling her shell necklace nervously, she approached Bakura, stopping him just before he touched the hot irons to the first shackle on the girl's right wrist, Malik and Odion keeping her body solidly against the table.

"Bakura," she spoke clearly, though a slight tremble rested in her voice, "please, let me do this instead."

"You?" Bakura sneered, not pulling the hot irons back from their hovered spot over Téa's wrist. "And why would _you_ volunteer for this? Are you going soft for this whore, as well?"

"Not at all, my lord." Every male was rendered silent at that. Nesmut never addressed Bakura with the title all the lesser thieves had to refer to him by, unless she was completely serious and sincere about something. "I just know that, between the two of us, I have the softer hand."

"A softer hand?" Bakura laughed menacingly. "You're going to have to try a different angle if you want to be the one to perform this ritual. This isn't supposed to be pleasant, Nesmut, not by any means."

"And it won't be," she promised, "but if you use too much force, you could hold the irons down for too long and end up searing completely through her skin to her arteries. A thief without hands or feet wouldn't serve much use to us, now, would she? And you know how your tendencies are, my lord, better than anyone. You won't give her an inch, and it will likely cost her her life. I, on the other hand, can teach her the lesson she needs to learn while making sure she survives to know that she learned it in the first place."

Bakura and Nesmut examined each other for a long moment, gauging each other for weakness or concession. Finally, Bakura stepped away from Téa, withdrawing the hot irons and presenting them with a flourish to Nesmut.

"It's your lesson, then, Nesmut," he intoned before smirking evilly, "but I warn you, if you slip up even once, if she loses so much as a hand, I will use these same irons to burn through that lovely throat of yours for misleading me."

Nesmut swallowed thickly at the thought. The pressure was certainly on her now. "Of course, my lord."

She took the hot irons reverently from him, and he withdrew into another part of the room to silently watch the spectacle. Nesmut approached Téa, signally Malik and Odion to get ready before staring Téa in the eye.

"Téana, prepare yourself." And she pressed the hot iron firmly on the shackle of her right wrist, waiting for the moment of truth.

Téa was tense, her body coiled more tightly than a spring. At first, there wasn't any pain at all since the heat from the irons had yet to affect the metal around her delicate skin. Minutes went by, and slowly, that started to change. Gradually, the metal started to heat up, but it wasn't so bad. It was like putting her hand under a spray of hot water. Unpleasant, but not unendurable. One could get used to it. But, there comes a time when one's skin cannot adapt to the heat from water. It sears the skin so much that all one can do is jerk back or dump cool water into it to get the temperature to lower to a more tolerable level. There was no kind of solution like this for Téa. She couldn't jerk back, she couldn't put ice on it, she couldn't do anything except scream, cry, and simply _endure._ And that's what she did.

The first shackle snapped off, revealing red, raw skin where the cuff had rubbed and bumped against her, but where the hot irons were placed, her skin was blistered and shiny like a lobster's. Her sunburn suddenly looked like a pinprick by comparison.

As Nesmut started on the second shackle on her left wrist, Téa's cries and pleas grew louder and more pathetic. Half of the time, she didn't even know what she was shouting, but she was so desperate for it to end, to be over forever. She begged many times for Nesmut to just kill her, but the girl refused to listen or give in to these pleas. She only remained focused on her task. Odion, a normally stoic man, felt his heart move for the girl. She truly hadn't been through anything like this before, but he knew that it had to be done. He glanced up from holding down the girl's lower body, studying his master with concerned green eyes. He knew Malik better than anyone, even better than Bakura. He knew Malik's feelings for the girl, whatever they were, ran deeper than he what he had implied to Bakura, especially after translating the conversation between them after the palace raid. If Malik asked him, he would be glad to train the girl and prepare her for what Bakura would no doubt continue to ask of her.

The second shackle fell away, and Téa was completely delirious, throat hoarse from screaming. The pain in both her wrists was too terrible to describe. Nesmut worked busily on the third shackle around her left ankle, and dimly, strangely, the pain started to subside, slowly, almost unnoticeable. When this did register to Téa, she believed that she must be dying, her body unable to take anymore.

_Is that really all I have?_ Floated brokenly across her mind. _Some heroine I am._

For some reason, these thoughts empowered her mind, it made her want to fight through the pain, to stay conscious. She wanted to look Bakura in the eye after it was over and say, "Huh, is that all? Wasn't that bad." Never mind that she had been groveling and screaming bloody murder the entire time. Her body, however, didn't want to cooperate.

As she passed from the world of consciousness, she felt someone grip both of her hands strongly but gently.

_Malik…? _It was her last thought before her mind shut down, and she knew nothing for a time.

* * *

When next she woke, she was no longer in Bakura's domain, which, although a pleasing thought, didn't improve her mood much. The room she was in was still pretty spacious, and similar decorations and wares were scattered throughout like what she saw before in the Thief King's chambers: tapestries, golden trinkets, jewels, fabrics, her dirty clothes from the future––_wait!_ She darted her gaze back to her clothes, utterly confused as to why they were scattered on the ground and not on her body. Yet, she could feel that she was wearing clothes of some sort, so what was going on?

She was too weak, in mind and in body, to put the pieces together. Sitting up from the comfortable mattress she was laying on, she cried out in pain as her mind finally registered the state of her wrists and ankles. They were completely free of the cuffs, but she could feel the burn she'd received from her latest ordeal, each wrapped firmly in gauze and some odd smelling paste. She wasn't sure if they were first or second degree burns, but at this point, she didn't care. She honestly felt like dying and was disappointed to find that she hadn't. The brunette just felt so useless, so weak and frail. She wasn't cut out for this; Haji had chosen the wrong girl.

**No, Téa,** Haji encouraged her, **you have proven yourself far stronger than most. Just remember what I told you. Pain is in the mind. If you can convince your mind to overcome this, then you will thoroughly and effectively convince your body to overcome it, too.**

_Haji, _she thought weakly, _thanks for the words of wisdom, really, but…enough. Enough, now. I…I need some time._

**Of course.**

And she felt him recede from her mind again. Téa sighed wearily, wondering what she should do now, thinking that she _should_ be doing something, but she quickly found that she didn't have enough strength to rise from the bed. Her strength didn't really matter, though, because someone entered the room before she could give anything much thought.

"You're awake." Téa whipped her head towards the voice, grimacing at the pain any movement caused her. "I'll admit, I thought you'd never wake up, love."

It was Malik.

* * *

**A/N: Well, my friends, do I still got it since last we've seen each other? Hope everything's been well with all of you. Please don't forget to review!**


	12. Ch 12: Gangland

**AN: As I've explained on another of my stories, I have no real excuse whatsoever for why it's taken me so long to update that would actually be adequate.**

**Also, I found the new image for this story on Google. I tried to do the reverse image search, but so far I've been unable to determine the artist of the original image. Well, taking without credit is totally uncool, so if any of you recognize this image and/or know the artist, PLEASE tell me! This is not my work, and I want to give the artist the credit he/she deserves!**

**On that note, I want to say thank you, thank you, _thank YOU_ so much to all my readers, reviewers, and all of those who are still with me. I'll thank everyone properly soon, but I think you all deserve to have this chapter without any further delay. **

**Please, enjoy.**

* * *

_Chapter Twelve: Gangland_

Malik's presence in her room momentarily distracted her from the pain, and it was in that moment when she actually registered _pain_ that she knew. The fact that she was feeling anything was a good sign. It meant she hadn't permanently lost any nerve endings or would need any of her hands and feet cut off. As long as she was able to fight off any infection, of course. The strange smell of the paste some kind soul had placed on her injuries wafted into her nose again. She hoped Egyptian medicines were as advanced and effective as her textbooks romanticized them to be.

"How are you feeling, love?" Malik asked softly, afraid to startle her again.

Téa tried to response but all that came out was a rasp. She swallowed and winced at how hard such a simple action was. Her throat was completely raw. It felt shredded. She didn't doubt that she'd damaged her vocal cords with how she'd been screaming the night before.

Or...had it been the night before?

Malik moved to stand beside her bedside, thinking that maybe his proximity would make it so she didn't strain herself too much. Téa noticed his gesture and was strangely touched by it. She felt tears beginning to burn her eyes, but she blinked them back. This entire ordeal was making her completely irrational. And there Bakura was, gloating that this event would make her stronger.

If he turned out to be wrong, she'd kill him.

"H-how," Téa tried talking, resisting the urge to clear her throat. That would only damage it more. It just felt so strange to be trying to use her vocal cords like normal and having barely a whisper come out. "How long?"

It was all she could manage. She hoped he would understand.

"Four days."

_Four days!_ She was stunned. She'd been fighting this pain for four days, and she still wanted to do nothing more than roll over and die. How had it been for her before?

As if reading her thoughts, Malik continued, "You've barely been conscious. Nesmut and Odion have been caring for you. They're the best when it comes to medicine. They're sort of the band's unofficial healers. When anyone's hurt, he knows to go directly to one of them, though Nesmut can be a bit...playful in her treatment while Odion's not exactly know for his nurturing nature. But it's better than succumbing to infection and, you know, dying."

He was rambling, something he never did. He was usually too confident, too self-assured to be reduced to rambling. He couldn't stop himself, though. The reason Téana was lying here in such pain was partly due to him. The guilt building inside of him was toxic and foreign. He didn't like it, didn't think he deserved to be feeling it to the degree that he was, with it plaguing his every waking moment since she'd fallen unconscious four nights ago. He'd go as mad as Bakura if he didn't do something to alleviate it. Therefore, Malik told himself that he was telling Téana all of this because she needed to know it. Every thief in their band knew it, and she was one of them now. She'd survived, and that had been Bakura's deal.

"It hasn't just been the burns you've been struggling with," Malik continued, trying to distract himself from the bright, azure gaze Téana was leveling at him. Her eyes seemed to pierce into him. It was the guilt messing with him, he reasoned. She'd never looked at him like this before, and it was beginning to unnerve him. The look just didn't match her trusting demeanor in the slightest. If it wasn't the guilt playing tricks on him, then perhaps it was the pain making her look at him like that. "Nesmut says you've been suffering from dehydration, malnourishment, and exhaustion. Any one of those three could spell trouble for you out here in the desert, so it's no wonder you've been under so long... Why didn't you say anything about it before?"

Téa couldn't stop the withering look that crossed her face. Malik had the decency to look sheepish, the message loud and clear. _As if she'd been allowed that. As if any one of them would have been so kind as to help her before._

"Ah." Malik's abashed expression fled as quickly as it'd come, replaced with a look that Téa could only describe as 'tempting'. Hands placed confidently on his hips, he tried to entreat her, asking, "There something you want?"

What Téa really wanted was for him to go find a shirt that actually covered his tanned chest. All that was draped around him, other than his favored beige pants, was a red robe with a single black and white stripe design going down both sides that honestly looked to be more Hebrew than Egyptian in style to her. She knew Malik wasn't even close to being Jewish, though, so that idea was quickly stamped out. But she knew that wasn't what he meant, and she wasn't about to open that Pandora's Box.

Honestly, even the thought of food made her feel both empty and sick at the same time. She knew it was probably unwise to refuse food at this point; she'd need it to heal. But with the way her wrists still hurt, there was no way she could hold a utensil, if they even _had_ utensils. Someone would have to spoon-feed her, and it would be a dark day in hell before she'd reduce herself to allowing Malik to do that for her. Maybe Nesmut could, but not him. Anyway, Téa figured that if she still had the energy to be prideful, then she'd come out of this alright. She shook her head.

"Hm, well I don't buy that for a second, but I won't fight you on it." The admission surprised her. She'd actually been expecting some sort of argument, and her confusion must have shown itself on her face, because he simply followed through with, "It's not my place to take care of you. I'm not your father or anything."

No, he certainly wasn't. Thinking about her dad, on the other hand, still brought back old pains, memories, and regrets, so Téa forced him from her mind. It had been years since his death from cancer. She'd only been thirteen, suddenly bereft of the man she'd grown to respect and love more than any other in her life. But Malik couldn't have known what his words had triggered within her, so she did what she knew how to do best: put on a happy face.

"What is this stuff?" she rasped out, nodding at the paste doing its work on her wrists.

"One of Nesmut's recipes. Crushed lotus flower, for the pain, and honey, of course."

"_Honey?_ Really?"

"Mmhm." Malik's lips quirked. Téana's disbelief sent an unusual burst of pride through him. Seems like his people had discovered a potent medicine that those pompous Greeks and Trojans hadn't. And it was such a simple remedy, too. "We've found that honey does wonders for burns, dry skin, cuts, digestion, just about anything really. And it helps with the smell."

An easy silence settled around the two then. Malik watched, intrigued, as Téana took to studying her wrists a little more closely. Admittedly, he was alarmed at how much such a simple gesture from her caught his attention so effortlessly, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it. They must make women special in Troy, because in the harsh sands of Egypt, a woman had to learn to be shrewd and look out for herself, even at the cost of using others to get by. In Egypt, women weren't much different from men, and while their lack of shyness brought Malik certain bonuses, it also cost him certain benefits. Like the ability to trust another. Where a man would be glad to knife you straight in the heart, grinning goodnaturedly in your face, a woman would be just as happy slitting your throat from behind, a coy smile on her lips the entire time. Experience, the cruelest yet most accurate teacher, had instilled in him these lessons long ago, and in truth, he was better for it. With Téana, though, she seemed so different, so contrary from all he'd known and all he'd been taught. She was a cog out of place in the rotation, and he had a hard time reconciling the damage she was doing to his philosophy. It wasn't that he felt she should be sheltered and protected and that he should be the one to do it. Quite the contrary, he believed that anyone who was able to should learn how to protect herself, because this world was unforgiving, even to the helpless damsel type. And Malik wasn't about to make Téana into one of life's victims because he suddenly, stupidly, decided to fashion himself into a hero. He'd never stoop to that level of foolishness. But she was just so _open_, with all that she felt and all that she was. What he truly feared was that she would lose that rare quality in her the farther into their darkness she waded so recklessly; he had been afraid that Bakura had singlehandedly succeeded four nights before, but her simple gesture just now had proven otherwise. Malik supposed that if he was going to play protector of anything, it would be of defending her light.

Light. That was the simplest way to describe what she was.

But she was fading again. He could tell by her dropping eyelids and her sluggish movements. She was fighting to stay awake. The narcotic quality of the lotus flower had always been a favorite of his, and he could tell she was unused to the drug's effects. He needed to hurry this along.

"You need to know what's going to be expected of you after you recover, and I wouldn't stay in bed too long, if I were you. Bakura's an impatient man as you know, and he would have no qualms about dragging you out of here and making you work. It's important that you start training, the sooner the better, so that maybe you won't be stuck too far down in the ranks. That's where the really...unpleasant jobs can be."

At securing her attention, he continued, adopting a matter-of-fact voice as he perched himself on the end of the makeshift bed Odion had secured for her, facing her. "Bakura, obviously, is our leader. He has many titles among us: Thief King, Lord, or simply Leader. You wanna get on his good side? Start addressing him by some from time to time. Do it too much, however, and he'll cut out your tongue for being a suck-up." The blonde thief settled her with an amused grin, but his amethyst eyes betrayed his seriousness, hinting that he was only half-joking.

"Below him are the advisors. It's a rank he bestows only on people he's gotten reason to trust inexplicably, and that rank consists only of Nesmut, Odion, and myself. We function as Bakura's councilors as well as his lieutenants in the field. Any information or merchandise the other members acquire are reported directly to us, and we in turn inform Bakura of it. You don't bother him anymore than you have to, for your sake.

"The next are the suppliers. They come and go as needed, since they are in charge of getting us any pertinent information, medicine, weapons, or the like. You're more likely to see them around more when Bakura's planning something big. Under them are the enforcers. They make sure no members are going against Bakura's orders or are violating the code, and, Téana, they take their job _very_ seriously. I can't stress that enough."

Téa's mind was reeling from the influx of information Malik was giving her, and she forced herself to concentrate to absorb it all. She was lucky, though. A few years ago, her mom had been obsessed with the show _Gangland_ on the History Channel. Julia Gardner would record it whenever she was called away on business trips and became infamous for having late night marathons, eating Ben & Jerry's ice cream as she caught up with a week's worth of programming. Téa often watched it with her, more for the bonding experience and for watching her mother's reactions on the topic than anything else. What did always manage to impress Téa was the high level of sophistication and structure the gangs covered on the show were arranged in. Malik's run down of ranks, levels of trust, devotion, and even the use of lethal force was certainly keeping with what she'd learned of the modern day gang code.

After the enforcers, Téa learned, the band _did_ have a treasurer, which she found sort of amusing given the kind of gang this truly was. She'd have thought that Bakura would have appointed himself as Treasurer for Life with all the trust issues he had, but apparently, fear was enough of a deterrent to keep their current one honest. Malik told her the same guy had been assigned to the position for four years now, a record that was so far unprecedented.

She was surprised, then, when Malik didn't bring up having a bookkeeper. From her understanding, that was a standard rank that often worked in tandem with the treasurer while also having its own separate duties. A surprised look flitted across his face at her question, and that's when she remembered. Writing wasn't exactly the norm here yet, and while the position intrigued her since it obviously didn't concern her having to steal from or kill some innocent person, it seemed like a perfect job for her. Except for one problem. She could understand their language now, but could she write it? That was something she'd have to test...unless they'd let her record it in English. She was competent enough for that. But what would she write on? There was still so many questions...

"Could you, maybe, ask Bakura about it? It doesn't even have to be me who fills the position if he doesn't want me to. I just think it'd be beneficial if you all had some sort of records you can access if you need to."

Malik studied her, pondering her suggestion. It actually made a lot of sense, and he was amazed. Sometimes, it took an outside observer to notice flaws those familiar with the system would easily miss, yet they'd been gaining new members every year and none of them had even suggested something like this. Even though Téa wasn't the least bit shrewd, she was proving every day that she did not lack intelligence, and that was something even Bakura would have to admire.

"I think he'll be pretty interested in it, actually. I mean, it may be a little complicated, since we do move base from time to time. Still, it's a thought. I'll bring it up to him soon, when he's in a better mood."

Best not to inform her that his poor humor as of late was because she was still living. And best not to let him know this new idea was her doing, either. Ignorance is bliss, it's true.

Beyond that, the ranks became simpler in nature, being granted to any fresh blood joining them. Weapons suppliers ensured that all weapons were taken care of and cleaned, that any member who needed one was able to procure one, and that the band had a healthy supply of extras, ranging in all varieties, at all times. Recruiters came and went as much as the suppliers did, roaming the surrounding area and often other parts of Egypt, searching for discontented or curious people who were eager to serve. At the same time, they kept a watch for potential spies or pretenders in the ranks, and once found, either dealt with them themselves or handed them over to the enforcers for retribution. Pullers and pushers worked together to keep daily business running smoothly for the band. The pullers gathered supplies, commodities, or resources the band needed, and pushers sold the extra wherever they could to gather up extra funds. Last were the lookouts. These members always came on field missions and watched for any enemy activity, namely from the Pharaoh's guards and soldiers. They would signal other members and sometimes run interference or provide a distraction. The one recommended skill was being a good runner.

All in all, Téa thought that it didn't sound all bad, like she expected it to. There was actually a lot she could do to earn her keep without being expected to do anything inhumane. She breathed out a sigh of relief. Another hurtle cleared.

The dancer noticed, however, that he failed to mention a key point in all of this, and it was that whole Ka business they had all discussed four nights ago. Where, exactly, did learning how to summon monsters come to play in all of this? Would _that_ be expected of her? She could already hear the taunts the men would reign down on her if her Ka turned out to be her favorite monster, the Lady of Faith. Well, screw them! What did they know about strength besides gaining it through brawn anyway?

"––you can do?"

Malik's curious tone jolted Téa out of her thoughts. Wow, she'd completely missed that.

"I'm sorry?"

He chuckled. "I said, from the jobs I've described, are there any skills you know you can do?"

"Oh, um." She bit her lip, embarrassment unexpectedly flushing her skin. The fabric of her blanket became utterly fascinating just then. "Honestly, besides possibly, maybe record keeping, all I can really do is cook, which is no good, since everyone fends for themselves. Oh, and dance, but well. What good is that here?"

A blonde eyebrow quirked at her last confession. Téana was a dancer? Well, with legs like hers, was that really a surprise?

"Is that what you did before? In Troy?"

"What, dance? Not for a living, no. I just did it, because." She paused as self-doubt crept in. Malik's sudden interest didn't make her feel special, like most people who asked her about her talent usually did. Instead, she felt insignificant and small. Microscopically, impossibly small.

"Because...why?" he prompted softly, as if he was coaxing a frightened animal out of a tight hiding place.

"Because I loved it," Téa said, a hint of a challenge in her voice. "And I was _good_ at it. On my way to becoming one of the best, actually."

"So what happened?" He was genuinely curious now. It was rare for people to be able to pursue their talents in this world without some sort of rich benefactor to back them up. If she'd had that opportunity, what could have possibly made her forsake it? Did it have anything to do with her reasons for coming here to Egypt, reasons that she'd said she could no longer remember?

"Life happened," she deadpanned, unwilling to say anymore.

Malik thought about persuading her to continue her story, hoping to coax something from her memory, but at this stage, he really doubted she would confide in him. They were barely acquaintances as far as she was concerned. Still, he'd hate to leave it on such a dour mood.

"I'd like to see you dance sometime," he intoned, leaning in slightly and holding her gaze when it jerked up to meet his, searching, looking for sincerity. "When you're ready to show me."

She was silent a beat, and then, "I'll think about it."

That was enough to have him grinning suavely at her, clearly pleased, as he leaned back into a comfortable position, and suddenly Téa felt very hot under her admittedly thin sheet. The narcotic steadily taking ahold of her wasn't the culprit, she was sure.

"Now, there is a matter of your training. I'd stick to Nesmut as much as possible. Don't be put off by her. I can assure you she treats everyone the same way, like a rat in a trap. You'll get used to it and in all probability learn from it. She can teach you a lot, being one of the few female members we have. Odion is also willing to lend you a hand for the moment. He'll get you familiar with the weapons we have here and help you find what suits you. He's also a master hand-to-hand combatant. I would take advantage of that after Nesmut's taught you some basics. Odion doesn't pull any punches, even on women, so you'll need to be prepared before you try and fight him.

"And then, of course, there's me. I can't promise to be around all the time, what with my unpredictable schedule better known as Bakura. But if you ever need a change of pace from the other two, I'll be happy to lend you a hand, love."

Téa nodded her thanks, sinking farther into the mattress as a new wave of drowsiness hit her full on. It was probably only that special, sleep-inducing delirium that inspired her to ask him her final question.

"Why do you call me that?"

He blinked, taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. He smirked slowly, deciding now would be a good time to play with her a bit.

"What? 'Love'?"

"Mmhmm. Sounds strange. Coming from you."

"Oh, is that right? It's not a term you often hear around here, I suppose. In truth, it's rather...exotic."

He then weaved her a humorous tale about one of their former members, a man named Erasmus, who joined them after he abandoned his post as a warrior in the Sicilian military. Unable to return home but still longing for adventure, the thief king's band of miscreants held a certain glamourous appeal to him. He stuck out, mostly because of his Greek mannerisms and appearance, and that made him different enough to attract a great deal of women in his day as a thief. His technique disgusted the other men in the band as much as it fascinated them, so much so that, when Erasmus and a few other members accompanied Bakura on a tomb raid, Erasmus met a horrific end from bumping into one of the booby traps littering the floor. It may or may not have been an accident. No one was willing to fess up who could tell for sure. So, in honor of his memory—and because it was damn well effective—Malik took to using his term of endearment whenever he could.

Téa listened without interrupting the whole way through, unable to decide if she believed him. Well, real story or not, it made her smile, and she couldn't help but tease Malik about it

"Is that all you do, then? Steal pick-up lines from more charming men to score chicks?" Sleep thickened her voice, and she had to fight through a yawn in the middle of that statement, but it was well worth it. Téa closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather up the strength she needed to open them again and continue the conversation. But they just felt so heavy all of a sudden.

Malik raised an eyebrow at her strange terminology, but he understood the gist of it. "Oh, no, that's not the only thing. Definitely not. I steal clothes, money, food, anything I can get my hands on." He waited for a response, and the more seconds that went by, the more he was convinced that he wasn't going to get one. Lilac eyes roamed her form briefly. Eyes closed, breathing steady and deep, body fully reclined, countenance wiped completely of pain and exhaustion to be replaced by a peaceful, carefree expression he hadn't seen on anyone's face in years. Yeah, she'd gone and fallen asleep on him. And the conversation had been getting so interesting, too.

He felt wistful, something else he hadn't experienced in a long time. All these sensations she was bringing out in him... It reminded him of the first breath of fresh air a man would take who'd been forced to abandon the world above to live underground, who after years of stagnation was allowed to return topside again. He'd forgotten how sweet the air smelled, how it tasted, forgotten the actual life to be found in living. To be confronted with the realization that there was more to be found than dank darkness and hollow sounds in a deep void. The world still had riches undiscovered and joys unmeasurable.

It had light.

Malik rose from the bed, preparing to excuse himself so she could rest properly. Besides, Nesmut would skin him alive if he delayed on what he'd gathered of her health so far. The hellcat had grown some motherly instinct in regards to the girl. It was _different_ to say the least. Out of character. Malik could relate. He couldn't resist gazing down at her one last time, telling himself that he was only making sure she was comfortable before he left.

Remembering what he'd last said to her, he decided to continue, knowing she would never hear it. Knowing that this would be the only admittance he'd make to himself before he forced himself to critically think about whatever it was he was doing. He leaned toward her only slightly––it was all he would permit himself––before he murmured lowly, "In fact, I could steal your heart right from under you, love, if you keep your defenses down like this. And if you keep lowering mine."

He almost made it out the door before her soft, slightly slurred voice froze him in place.

"Hmm, weeellll, if you think you can, you'll need something a loooot better than '_luv_' to score me, Blondie. Mom calls me that. Sss'not attractive."

He watched as she suddenly rolled herself onto her stomach, smashing her face into the pillow beneath her. All at once, she stilled, resuming the relaxed air she'd had not even ten seconds before. Her breathing was controlled and deep again. The blonde had a feeling she wouldn't remember this moment the next time she woke. The thought made him smile.

"Duly noted."

* * *

Téa opened her eyes some hours later to find Nesmut sitting cross-legged on the dirt floor, hard at work with crushing something in a glazed bowl with a pestle. Her homemade remedy, Téa assumed, if the odd yet sweet smell in the air was anything to go by.

"I think you've been resting long enough," Nesmut said, never removing her focus from the task in front of her. "We've pampered you like a princess, and I think you've got a good idea of how Bakura feels about royalty. He'll drag you out of here himself if you keep lounging about."

"That's what Malik said." Téa was pleased to find that her voice sounded stronger, even though her throat still felt achy and scratched. Some progress had been made at least. At Téana's response, the dark-haired young woman paused in her work long enough to study her for a moment. Shrugging slightly, she returned her attention back to the mortar.

"Malik's right."

Using only her legs, Nesmut rose gracefully from the floor, holding the mortar and pestle in one hand while grabbing another small bowl Téa hadn't taken notice of in the other. As she approached, Téa noted that she still wore the same style of clothes as before, except Nesmut had traded in her red lehenga choli for a navy blue one instead. Her eyeshadow also changed to match the color, each one serving to heighten the different shades of blue in her cobalt eyes. Her obsidian hair also hung in careless waves, free from the red headband she'd been wearing at their first meeting. Beyond those simple, obvious changes in appearance, though, there was still something different about her. Téa couldn't place it at first, until she noticed the white bandage covering the woman's bare right arm near the start of her shoulder. Noticing she was staring, Téa averted her eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed. Maybe Nesmut hadn't noticed.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Apparently she had. Great.

"I'm sorry for, well you know," she said lamely. "It's just—what happened?"

"You first, girlie."

Nesmut settled herself quite at ease next to Téa on the bed, placing the mortar and pestle on the ground before using her now free hand to gently tug on one of Téa's injured wrists. Slowly, she began to unwrap the dirty bandages expertly with one hand, taking a greater care than Téa would have normally expected of the hardened woman. It was a care that spoke of a perfected skill tempered with the slow hand of compassion.

"How are they?" Nesmut's question broke through to her, authoritative and professional.

Téa cautiously moved her wrists and ankles in circles, testing herself, waiting for the agony of before to come rushing back again. Relieved didn't even begin to cover her feelings when it didn't. "I'm not sure if this is the right description, but they still sting a lot. Getting kind of itchy, too. I'm stiff, but I can at least move them now, though, unlike before, so that's a plus."

Nesmut nodded, withdrawing a cloth from her pants' pocket and dipping it into the second bowl, which Téa now saw was filled with clean water. Clearing the bandages completely away, Nesmut began cleaning off the old medicine and other unpleasant things from her wrist. Trying not to squirm at the new burning sensation the water caused, Téa waited patiently for the verdict.

"You've got the lotus flower in the mix to thank for the natural painkiller. However, to make sure you'll stay conscious the rest of the day, I've had to lower how much of it I've added to the balm. You'll probably notice the pain more and more the longer you stay up, but you're gonna have to find a way to deal with it, alright? When night falls, come find me, and I'll make sure to add enough so you can get to sleep again." Switching off the bowl of water for the mortar, Nesmut began to use another, drier portion of the cloth to dab the balm around the wound. Not too long after that, she set the bowl aside and wrapped new bandages she withdrew from her other pocket around Téa's wrist. The process began again with Téa's other wrist.

"As for this," Nesmut began, jerking her head nonchalantly at the bandage on her arm, "I guess you could say I got into a bit of a disagreement with one of the boys. Mahu. You haven't had the _pleasure_ of his company yet, lucky you. Anyway, he thought a knife would be the best way to get my attention." She scoffed lightly, like this was an everyday occurrence, and Téa was beginning to fear that it was.

"That's terrible!" she exclaimed, indignant on Nesmut's behalf. "Well, was he punished? Did Malik or Odion or _somebody_ do something?" Nesmut's hollow smile and deadpan gaze was less than comforting.

"Of course not," she responded dispassionately. "You look after yourself here. Doesn't matter who you are. Besides," she drew closer to Téa, mock-whispering conspiratorially to her, "if you think this seems bad, you should see the other guy." Nesmut's saucy wink didn't get the laugh she expected out of the other girl.

"You really are new to all this, aren't you?" Nesmut rose from the bed, drawing the covers off of Téa, so she could access the girl's ankles. Her tone was mockingly nostalgic. "Must be nice."

"It just doesn't seem––" The dancer cut herself off, amazed at her own idiocy at the world she'd chosen to involve herself with. She'd been about to say _'safe' _as if that word meant anything. Other meaningless terms flashed through her mind that she'd been prepared to say. _Safe. Fair. Right._ It dawned on her that, while she slept, she'd been dreaming of how easy or clear-cut her mission would become now that she was finally in the place she needed to be. Nesmut was right. It was time to wake up and get familiar with reality.

Instead, Téa said something she'd thought about Nesmut since she first met her. "You just don't seem like the type of person who lets someone else take advantage of her very often."

"Looks to me like you _have_ been learning something in your sleep." The dark haired girl smirked, finishing her final bandage and proceeding to help Téa rise from the bed. The dancer wobbled for a bit, hanging onto Nesmut for support. She couldn't remember her having this much trouble with standing since she'd sprained an ankle at dance practice when she was fifteen. When Téa was more sure of her footing, she took some tentative steps forward, trying to ignore the preliminary pain her ankles were already experiencing. Nesmut left her with her own devices for a moment, returning a couple minutes later with what looked like a fresh set of clothes under her arms. Téa's attempt at embracing the crass girl at the sight of clothes was met with an indignant squawk and a slight shove.

"Just use the rag and what's left of the water to freshen up a bit. I'll be waiting outside," Nesmut said hastily, leaving the room as quickly as she could. Téa heard her grumble "_Ugh, Trojans!_" and then she was gone.

A bath really was too much to hope for, she knew that, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Peeling her nearly-week-long-old clothes from her body, along with most of the blood, sweat, dirt, and sand that had been clinging to her all that time, made her feel a little bit better, though. Still, she tried not to think of what she smelled like.

The cool water and the rag made her temperament improve even further, and she donned the new clothes in earnest, keeping a watch on her injuries all the while. She was now wearing, blessedly, some baggy beige, capris-style pants and a faded red, sleeveless tunic that mercifully covered everything. She didn't think she could handle walking around like Nesmut did in a place like this. No amount of confidence could prepare her mentally for that trial.

After leaving the room, Téa followed Nesmut around the tunnels, attempting to take note of where everything around her was. It was a complicated system, but she knew she could learn it with experience. The hideout clearly buzzed with activity, and Téa smiled weakly at every person who passed them by, trying not to be too unnerved by their stares, some expressing mere curiosity, others exuding malice or, even more worrisome, salaciousness.

_Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

But there was something else that was setting the seventeen-year-old on edge, and that was her otherworldly aide, Haji. Or rather, Haji's notable absence. He seemed to have completely receded from her, and the fact that she could tell was alarming. All along, even when he wasn't speaking to her, she could feel him there, though that assertion was overly simplistic. His presence wasn't overbearing, menacing, or even remotely distracting. Instead, he had been like a weight in her mind, something that she'd never really noticed until she didn't have to carry it around anymore. Without him, her mind was lighter and airy; in other words, her mind was completely hers. It was a strange thing to be worried about. Normally, possessing complete privacy and freewill would be a cause of joy for anyone. But Haji was supposed to be her guide, her mentor, and her protection during this mad escapade through the past, and it looked like he had taken Téa's order of "enough" as a literal order of dismissal. The thought of abandonment sent her heart racing and made her stomach feel queasy, but she was also assailed with a revelation. His desertion was probably inevitable, wasn't it? That was often the plot of the hero's journey after all. The mentor had to stand down, often being killed in literature and film, so that the hero or heroine could rise and do the task appointed to them. Look at Obi-Wan Kenobi. Look at Albus Dumbledore. Téa still scoffed at the idea of being considered a heroine—really, there had to be someone better qualified for the job—but logically, she thought that if Haji's leave taking _had _to happen, she'd rather he left her alone now rather than later. She'd be able to rely on herself much sooner this way, and her independence may be what ended up keeping her safe in the end.

Well, she reasoned, she wasn't _quite_ self-sufficient yet. She still had Nesmut and the others, but she had a feeling they weren't going to coddle her as much as Haji did.

_Good. I've had enough of being treated so carefully. _The pain and the itchiness in her injuries currently waged war over which was most annoying, but she resisted them both. _Clearly, I'm not quite so fragile as all that._

Nesmut introduced her to the main areas she'd need to be aware of, each room having been chosen at random for what it served as, each lacking any identification with the others as they were all carved haphazardly out of the cave stone. This hideout in particular had a kitchen area ("You're in charge of when and what you get fed. Fire pit's over there. Go crazy, but not too crazy, yeah."), a training area ("It's pretty tame right now, so don't let that fool you. If a free-for-all breaks out, you get out of there any way you can, got it, girlie?"), a large bath area ("Don't give me that look. Help me today, and I'll see what I can do about getting you one. And _do not_ try and hug me again."), a treasure room ("No one's actually allowed in there unless summoned or if you're the treasurer. Just stay away from it."), Bakura's chambers ("Just so you know where to avoid."), and then an entire series of tunnels acting as rooms for the other members of the band ("Senior members have earned their own rooms, while the new meat must share a space together. That usually yields some pretty funny and bloody results, so that's why we enforce it. In the meantime, you'll room with me, until I'm confident you can stab someone and not go cryin' about it.").

Throughout the tour, Nesmut would often stop and chat with other members. She didn't bother introducing Téa, figuring that if the girl really wanted to be known, she'd pluck up the courage to do it herself. She did, however, surreptitiously watch Téa, making sure no one tried anything with her while marveling at how much the girl herself was just _not noticing _the goings-on around her. That would need to be changed as soon as possible. Occasionally, the open leers and sneers of other members towards Téa, from men and woman respectively, pissed Nesmut off so much, she decided to get a little even. A couple coins here, a necklace there. Téa deserved some spoils, and none of these bastards deserved to look down on her at this point, having no idea what she'd endured from Bakura and herself days before. Most of these pussies would be climbing the walls just to escape the thought of going through something like that. Especially considering that Bakura had lied. The damn locks could have been picked––they were master thieves after all––making all that pain to be completely unnecessary.

Téa tried not to laugh as Nesmut kept slipping her wares from other people for no explicit reason. The woman reminded her a little of one of her favorite characters from her childhood, Catwoman, especially the Michelle Pfeiffer version and the one from the _Batman: Arkham City_ game she'd watched the boys play from time to time. A warped kind of Robin Hood, all slyness, slinky movements, and tempting words that could drop anyone's defenses.

"You know, I don't need this stuff. You should really give these back."

_"You_ give them back. Let me know how it turns out for you._"_

It felt good, Téa mused, being able to smile again, if just for a moment. Before the shadows and the danger and the regret set back in.

Before she was reminded of everything she still needed to do.

* * *

_The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. _

_ But I have promises to keep,_

_ And miles to go before I sleep._

_ And miles to go before I sleep._

* * *

**AN: So, some groundwork has been laid on what you can expect from this particular band. The hierarchy of the thieves are drawn from a combination of how online thief guilds are structured as well as on how modern day gangs are set up. Only, the structure here is probably more rough around the edges, which is what I wanted.**_  
_

**The lotus flower did, in fact, serve as a narcotic drug for Ancient Egyptians along with opium and, I believe, an early form of cocaine. Honey is only now being realized on a massive scale for being the simple, medical miracle it is. Funny, considering the Ancient Egyptians literally figured that out ages ago. Other methods Egyptians used to ward off sickness were their form of magic and constant prayer to their gods. Since Téa's ailment was a wound and not a cold, an internal infection, or the like, it made more sense to also make her treatment be something more physical and substantial. Besides, Bakura's band of merry men and women don't strike me as the particularly religious type. After all, they go against the Pharaoh, who is seen as a god by regular Egyptians, and they have no qualms about raiding or desecrating holy areas, such as temples and tombs. Therefore, having a reliance on prayer didn't strike me as making much sense. Magic on the other hand... We'll see.**

**I chose the name Erasmus for the Greek man in Malik's story specifically because it means "to love." Interestingly enough, I chose to use the Latin version of the name because it sounds better to me. The actual Greek name would be Erasmos.**

**The bit at the end is part of a poem, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," by Robert Frost. What he lacks in his titles, he more than makes up for by his lyrical talents. He remains one of my most favorite poets. If you don't know him, you should get acquainted.**

**And, as you can see, by bringing up Dumbledore's death and the _Batman: Arkham City_ game, I have thrown the timeline of YGO during the time of Battle City out the window. For the sanity of all, just acknowledge that I see this story as taking place in the vague time of _present day_ and leave it at that. (Besides the time set in the past, obviously.)**

**I look forward to hearing from you!**


	13. Ch 13: Politics

**AN: You guys have been so great. I love you all seriously. I really can't believe I got another chapter out this fast, so let this be a symbol of my appreciation for all of you. And I still have a lot of material to work with for other chapters. Oh, frabjous day! Callooh, callay! I am seriously ecstatic.**

**A brief warning: this chapter became incredibly sad. Seriously. I'm a hard-hearted person, and even I think this is a bit of a tearjerker, so... Be prepare for that. I guess.**

**Also, to _Suseh: _I have been wanting to reply to your messages for ages now, but you've turned off your PM, so I can't. I just want you to know that I'm not ignoring you. I just have no way to contact you. I really miss our conversations, though. Thank you for your continued support!**

**And that goes for all of you! Thank you for reviewing and favoriting and reading and just being so supportive all this time, and wow, that's a lot of "ands."**

**I'll just start the chapter now.**

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen: Politics_

The tour ended abruptly after Téa's stomach growled so loudly it could only be described as unholy. Ignoring the curious looks of passersby the sound had drawn to the pair, Nesmut raised one of her dark eyebrows at Téa, a smug look curling her lips.

"Not hungry, huh?"

Téa felt herself blush harder. "I honestly didn't realize it until now."

Nesmut gave a long-suffering sigh before turning back down the tunnel they'd been walking. Téa worked to keep up with her, wincing every now and again at the pain in her ankles. It felt like her skin had been rubbed raw along with an accompanying burning heat. That didn't even include what was swiftly becoming incessant itching. She grit her teeth, trying to ignore it as best she could. The brunette knew better than to complain. What would be the point? Who would care? But beyond that was another reason she kept her discomfort to herself. She didn't want to disappoint her newfound friend and ally. Téa wasn't sure what it was exactly that she did to earn Nesmut's approval, but whatever she'd done, she wasn't about to ruin this progress by being, well, by being weak. Sure, these burns had hurt like hell, and healing would take some time, but she was sure that so many people in this era had been through worse.

And most of them were all down here in these tunnels with her.

Upon reaching the kitchen area, the two women discovered it being occupied by four equally burly men arguing over a batch of apples of all things. They were dressed similarly, wearing loose, beige pants, though some were shirtless and others wore cloth head coverings which Téa was sure served to protect their scalps from the sun and their hair from the wind and sand. Each of them were huddled around a round, rigidity, wooden table that Téa assumed the band had...procured at some point during one of their heists. How they had hauled such a huge table all the way here, however, was a mystery, a technique Téa feared she might become privy to at some point. While Téa wondered how such an experience would go, she was suddenly aware of the lack of conversation in the room. All of the men's arguing ceased at once when they noticed the two newcomers, and Téa fidgeted slightly at finding four pairs of dark eyes fixed resolutely on her. She had a feeling her light smile wasn't well received.

Nesmut stepped forward, jabbing her thumb swiftly over her shoulder. "Okay, gentlemen, you know how this works. _Screw!_"

And to Téa's complete surprise, the four men waited only a beat before each passed them to leave the room, though not without a unified grumble of discontent. They even left the bushel of apples on the table.

Téa looked back to Nesmut in awe. "What did you just do?"

"Just one of the perks of pulling rank. Now, c'mon, sit down."

Téa did just that, settling herself into one of the many mix-matched chairs settled around the table. She wondered who these once belonged to. Were some once in someone's home? A marketplace? Or had some former owners just abandoned them, leaving them for an aspiring thief to find and take for his own?

Nesmut sat down beside her, grabbing an apple from the pile with one hand as she smoothly unsheathed the knife in her thigh holster with the other. As the veteran thief brought the knife towards the fruit, Téa couldn't help the noise of alarm and disgust that left her mouth. Nesmut paused, then an amused smirk settled on her lips.

"Relax. I clean this thing more than I do myself, and we Egyptians value cleanliness, even us thieves." She sniffed exaggeratedly. "Something that's next on your to-do list by the way."

Téa tried to hide how much the idea of a bath made her smile, but she knew she failed. Without further fuss, she watched as Nesmut began to peel the apple, obviously working to peel it in one continuous string. As she reached to get her own apple, however, Nesmut let out a sound of protest.

"Stop being impatient, girlie. I'm getting to it."

Téa froze, unsure at first of what the young woman was talking about before she blinked slowly in realization. "Despite how helpless I still seem to you, I do know how to feed myself. You don't have to peel off the skin for me, you know. "

Nesmut smiled, but for the life of Téa, she couldn't figure out why the gesture looked so sad. "I know, but you haven't had much on your stomach lately. As hungry as you feel, you may not even be able to keep the apple down. If you ate the peel, it'd definitely be hard on your stomach. Best to play it safe."

With the peel gone, Nesmut sliced the apple into small squares then pushed them towards Téa, advising the girl to eat slowly. The dancer found it an incredible task to take that advice, but the fear of making herself feel worse than she already did helped keep her from eating as ravenously as she craved to. Maybe some conversation would help distract her.

"So...what's your story?" At Nesmut's questioning look, Téa hastened to elaborate. "Why a thief?"

A small laugh escaped Nesmut. It didn't sound particularly joyful. "I don't think you're ready to hear that story."

"Really?" A light scowl crossed Téa's face. How was she supposed to appear strong to these people if they kept underestimating her? Time to try a different tactic: bargaining. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"I already know yours, hussy," Nesmut teased, amused at the girl's sudden spunk.

"Not all of it." The smile on Nesmut's face slipped off as she realized how serious Téana was.

"How _did_ you get here to Egypt?"

"That I still don't remember," Téa lied. That was one story she knew she could never tell. But she had others. "I do remember my family, though. My mom, really. My dad died of disease when I was young, so we had to learn to take care of ourselves. Luckily, we were both ambitious. She secured a career while I made sure I excelled in my studies. Anything to make it easier for her."

"So, wait," Nesmut interrupted, intrigued, "she didn't have to remarry? Or marry you off to someone? And, wait, studies? You had a tutor?"

A smile crossing her lips, Téa tried to explain as truthfully as she could. _If you only knew, Nesmut. _"No, marriage wasn't on the agenda for either of us. And I didn't have a tutor. The government actually provides for our school back where I come from. Sure, a lot of women would have done what you first thought, but not us. I guess you could say we're progressive."

Nesmut let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Damn. I chose the wrong profession in the wrong country then, didn't I? But what about your mother? She must be worried about you. Wouldn't it be better if you found a way back to her instead of staying here?"

"Would it be easier, sure. Better, though? I'm not so sure." Téa popped another apple square in her mouth, chewing slowly in contemplation. "I think I'm here for a reason, good or bad doesn't matter. And I also think my mom is worried about me, but she also knows what I'm capable of. I can take care of myself, make my own decisions. In the end, that's what she'd want for me."

"Maybe so," Nesmut conceded before leveling Téana with a penetrating stare. "But I don't think your mother had it in mind that you'd be taking on a ruthless, dark priest and an even more corrupt Pharaoh. To say nothing of the rest of us."

Téa nodded, conceding that fact. After all, she hadn't expected to find herself here either. "True, she wouldn't agree with it. I know that. But she would respect my ambition and my decision to follow through with it. Besides." Téa clenched her fists, trying to keep the feelings at bay. "What _he_ did to my friends... The way they looked, their screams. I can't forget it, even if I wanted to. And I certainly can't forgive it. Not yet."

At the sheer thought of Seth, a red haze of anger fell over her. It was such a foreign feeling. She didn't even remember being this mad when Honda and Jonounchi used to bully Yugi, back before they were all friends. Before the Millennium Puzzle and a 3,000-year-old Pharaoh came into their lives. The same one who had Seth on his payroll. Now, she was just enraged.

When she wasn't focusing on her guilt and sorrow, that is. Her eyes were stinging suddenly, as she realized how selfish she had been all this time.

"Thema and Jabari. Ever since-" She paused, taking a shuddering breath as she tried regaining control. "Ever since I came here, I've barely thought of them. I've been trying to—to use other things to keep the thought of them at bay. Which is so _wrong, _to ignore them like that. As if their memory will just go away if I try to make myself forget. I just—I _know_ it wasn't my fault that they died. It was betrayal, it was Seth, it was circumstance. In the end, they trusted the wrong person, but I still just feel so _guilty. _And I know what it is. It's survivor's guilt. I _know _that, but I can't stop myself from feeling it. If I was able to live, why weren't they? Why were they punished for only trying to put their family back together? And as for Seth and even Kalim! Who are they to judge anybody after Seth is allowed to torture someone like he did? And all for what? That _Ka_ or power or whatever it is! How the _hell _is that fair? How is that justice? I'm just—I-I'm sorry. I'm _so_ _sorry._"

By the time Téa trailed off, she wasn't sure what she was apologizing for or to whom. For the tears that were streaming unhindered down her face, tears that Nesmut was being forced to witness? To her murdered friends, who she had let down so thoroughly? To her mother, who probably wasn't even aware of where she was or what she was doing? Who would be so ashamed at the vengeance that was festering in her daughter's heart? For having such doubts about Yami and her best friend who trusted him so inexplicably? Was it possible that, without his memories, Yami was a better person than he was as Atemu the Pharaoh, the same as how Seto Kaiba, for how cold he is, was infinitely better than his past self? Wasn't her whole journey here an attempt to subvert the evil a person could become, as Malik and that..._thing_ in her dreams was beginning to demonstrate. She just felt so overwhelmed.

Roughly wiping her face dry with one hand, irritated at her tears, Téa attempted to regain what was left of her dignity. The whole time, Nesmut only sat and stared at her in indifferent silence. Analyzing her. Sizing her up. Téa was sure she'd failed whatever test Nesmut was giving her. At this rate, she wouldn't stand a chance against Bakura.

But then...

"I had a sister, once." Nesmut's voice was soft, low, abandoned of the lively confidence, the rousing authority, or the seductive quality it usually had. This was a new tone. Flat. Tired. Resigned. If the thief's words hadn't immediately caught her attention, this new side to Nesmut did.

And then Nesmut's hand went up to grasp the seashell necklace she wore without fail around her neck. The same delicate necklace that Téa had found so at odds with the hardened woman who wore it. The gesture was so unconscious it was almost as if Nesmut was holding onto the necklace as an anchor, seeking stability and reassurance.

Téa knew what it was then.

"That was your sister's," she said softly, afraid to break the moment.

Nesmut closed her eyes, nodding mournfully. When she opened her eyes again, Téa saw they had a brightness to them that wasn't normal. She sympathized. The pain of loss was always raw; it rarely abated.

"My twin. She made it for me after our parents died, one from war, the other from grief. It's all I have left of any of them."

The brunette didn't bother giving condolences. This was an old pain the woman across from Téa was reliving on her behalf. In Téa's experience, apologies weren't worth too much and at this point felt like a truly tactless thing to say.

Instead, she merely asked, "What happened to her?"

"Shashai. That was her name. It means 'necklace,' ironically. I guess that was why she was so good at making them."

Nesmut's lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. She gave a heavy sigh, the movement itself seeming to visibly deflate her as she propped her chin on her hand, gazing at nothing on the far stone wall. Resuming the same dull tone, she continued.

"Even though she was born first, I always felt protective of her, and even though we looked just alike at that time, I always thought she carried the true beauty in the family. There was just some quality about her, that lit her up from the inside. Someone like her needed to be protected and cared for. Our father's position in the military provided for us pretty decently, but after he died—with Mother swiftly following—we were left with nothing. We were seventeen at the time. After that, Shashai wanted to become a priestess."

* * *

_Nesmut watched passively, grudgingly amused as she saw her mirror image dance nervously from foot to foot, the same cobalt eyes looking back at her with trepidation. Worried about what her twin would say. Nesmut supposed she shouldn't be surprised. A priestess. And one for the Virgin Mother Goddess Neith at that. _

_ "Well, dearest Shashai, I just have one thing to say about that," Nesmut declared, all seriousness._

_ "What is that, loving sister?" Shashai attempted to curry favor. Nesmut waited a moment before replying, wanting the suspense to last as long as possible._

_ "At least no one will get us confused anymore. There's no way I'm _ever_ donning a preistess' robe."_

_ Her sister squealed excitedly before launching herself at Nesmut in a tight embrace. Not expecting the move, Nesmut almost let them both fall to the ground as she spun around to keep up with her sister's momentum. Before long, the two were laughing, both over their mutual joy and at how silly they were being._

_ "Oh, you are _evil_, Nessy!" Shashai slapped Nesmut on the arm playfully. "Keeping me in suspense like that! How could you? I was really afraid you would say no."_

_ "You set yourself up too easily. Besides, why would you need my approval? I'm younger than you are."_

_ "It's not a matter of needing; it's a matter of wanting." Shashai shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "It just wouldn't feel right. Me adopting a temple life without your blessing."_

_ "Well, even though you didn't have to ask me, sister, I'm glad you did." Nesmut drew her into a hug again. "Mother and Father would be proud of you, too, you know."_

_ "I know."_

_ After a long moment, they pulled apart, silently agreeing to go back to doing the tasks around their small yet well-furbished home. As Nesmut was setting up the reed mat on the floor where they took their meals, she couldn't help but ask._

_ "So why Neith? That isn't a usual choice. I confess I suspected, if you ever did something like this, that you would choose to serve Bast or Isis. Aren't they your favorites?"_

_ Shashai nodded, coming to help her sister with dinner. "They are, but Neith just felt...right."_

_ "A matter of faith?"_

_ "You could say that."_

_ A comfortable silence fell between them for some minutes before Shashai broke it again._

_ "The goddess of the waters, the goddess of creation, of wisdom, war, and hunting. The Virgin Mother Goddess Neith. By serving her, I grant respect to our father, who fought for Egypt and the Mighty Pharaoh in his campaigns against invaders. Neith looks after the souls of those fallen in battle, and she will protect our father. I owe her my thanks for that. And our mother was nothing but a wise woman. After all, look how we turned out." Shashai winked playfully._

_ Nesmut nodded along with her twin's explanations, adding afterwards, "You forgot two though. Neith, the protector of women and guardian of marriage."_

_ Shashai smiled, glad her sister was truly taking an interest. "Thanks, dear one, but I didn't forget. That's actually what I really want to talk to you about."_

_ Nesmut had a feeling of what was coming. "You don't want to marry. You want to be a virgin priestess, giving yourself solely to your goddess." She couldn't make it into a question, already having an idea of what Shashai's answer would be._

_ "Sure does make your job easier, not having to worry about a dowry and marrying me off and all that."_

_ Nesmut's response was sharp. "That better not be the only reason you're doing it!" At her sister's startled expression, Nesmut calmed down. "If you wish to marry, just say so. Don't do something you don't want to do just to make things easier for me. I won't have that. Not when you deserve everything."_

_ Another beaming smile lit up Shashai's face as she laughed lightly. "You're too kind, Nessy. But this _is _what I want. Unquestionably."_

* * *

_"You've begun your studies again, I see. Better late than never I suppose." _

_ Shashai's all too innocent voice rang throughout their home. She'd returned from another day of training at the Temple of Neith. Nesmut looked up from the scrolls her tutor had given her earlier that morning to find that dusk was fast approaching. Her stomach continued to growl in protest and now she knew why. It'd been a long time since she'd eaten breakfast._

_ Casting her gaze onto her grinning and undeniably insufferable sister, now wearing the off-white robes of an apprentice, Nesmut replied, "Says the new, ill-trained priestess."_

_ "Hey! Be nice. I'm learning. The other priestesses say that I'm coming along rather nicely, even despite my age."_

_ Nesmut believed that was probably true. After all, there was no denying that her sister had entered into this ambition of hers being older than most prospects. It wouldn't be long before she was fully trained. She'd take her vows of eternal service and chastity, and then she would be living in the temple from then on. Away from Nesmut. It was hard not to be sad about that. Nesmut supposed that that just gave her an excuse to go pray at the temple more._

_ But speaking of priestesses, it appeared as if her sister was already taking full advantage of what her new title awarded her._

_ "A man came by this morning. A master healer. He said he was sent here to carry on where our mother left off in teaching me the healing arts. Where did this sudden generosity come about, I wonder?"_

_ "The gods teach us not to question the good fortune in our lives, dear sister, only to accept it and do good in return," Shashai recited, saying nothing more. _

_ Nesmut shook her head in amazement at her sister's cheek, but she smiled all the same. Their father's service in the Pharaoh's army had provided generously for their family, more than others in some cases. Her mother was able to teach her what she knew about medicine, prayers, and ritual magic to help cure various illnesses and wounds. But when her father died, the provisions for their family stopped coming. Her mother stopped teaching her. It was all Nesmut and Shashai could do to keep their house in order, seeking work in the fields or going to the markets for jobs or buyers of their own crops. Nesmut even began pickpocketing when times were really desperate. Shashai had no idea, she would never know. Nesmut supposed that was even more of a reason to go pray. _

_ And all that time, they were forced to watch their mother waste away. No amount of prayers, magic, or medicine had saved her. But, in Egypt, religious leaders of any kind held a certain prestige and their families were allotted certain benefits due to that honor. At first, Nesmut was afraid that Shashai wanted to be a priestess only so Nesmut wouldn't have to work so hard, which would have been unacceptable to the younger twin. However, Shashai truly did enjoy her work and the help it would soon give to others. Honoring the gods wasn't something a person could do insincerely. And, Nesmut supposed, Shashai did enjoy being able to help her. It was a case of putting scripture into practice: caring for the poor, the good, and one's family all at once, though Nesmut would argue against the "good" part. _

_ Setting her scrolls aside for the night, Nesmut stood and stretched. "You know what would be really good? If you helped me with dinner, so we could eat and relax that much faster."_

_ She would miss hearing her sister's laughter ringing through their home._

* * *

_ Nesmut would be lying if she said she wasn't afraid of the tears streaming unchecked down Shashai's face. Her sister was holding herself, shaking far too noticeably, unable to contain her sobs. Her induction hadn't been today, so there was no way she'd been rejected from the priestesses' fold. What had happened to make her behave like this?_

_ Nesmut sat her sister down on their reed mat in the kitchen, thrusting a small, clay cup filled with their homemade beer in her hand. Shashai drank it, ignoring that she was supposed to sustain from alcohol unless there was a ritual involved. Not like that mattered anymore anyway._

_ "Ssh, ssh, calm down," Nesmut murmured, rubbing her sister's back in slow, comforting circles. "Tell me what happened."_

_ "I'm s-so sorry I haven't told you before now. I just didn't know what to do, and now this happened and-"_

_ "You're not making any sense, Shashai. Take a breath, slow down, and start over. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"_

_ Shashai nodded frantically, doing as her twin instructed. After some time, she began to speak again, much more coherently this time._

_ "Four days ago, the Pharaoh came to the temple."_

_ Nesmut's eyes widened. It wasn't like the Pharaoh to make social calls, even to the temples. What had he been there for? _

_ "He–he noticed me."_

_ The younger twin felt her heart stop. Her sister was undeniably beautiful, but no one but Nesmut was supposed to notice. _Please don't tell me...

_ "He––summoned me forward, and he said he wanted me to––marry him! As one of his mistresses."_

_ Nesmut nodded slowly, trying to process it all. At an attempt to make her sister feel better, Nesmut said, "That—that's alright. I've heard the Pharaoh is rather handsome, and he treats his women well and equally. You'll live in the palace, and you'll want for nothing. I know you wanted to remain a virgin priestess, but overall this isn't too bad of a deal." Her words sounded so hollow, but everyone knew you couldn't argue with the Pharaoh. _

_ "If it was just him, I wouldn't be this upset," Shashai moaned, her shaking starting up anew. "Today—it happened again today, only it was Seth this time. He came to the temple."_

_ Chilled, Nesmut tried to reason this new information out. The Pharaoh and his right hand, the High Priest Seth, was competing for her sister's hand? Was that even allowed? Did either of them know who their competition was, or did Seth know, he just wasn't backing off? _

_ "Did you tell him the Pharaoh already claimed you?"_

_ "I was going to, but I took one look at him and I couldn't. You haven't _seen_ him, Nesmut! All I could see was death in his eyes. If I'd told him, I truly believe he would have killed me just so the Pharaoh couldn't have me. He would have found some excuse, I know it! Oh, Ra, what am I going to do?"_

_ Nesmut held Shashai to her while she cried, her mind racing. What could they do? Every now and again, the Pharaoh and the High Priest Seth clashed over something they both wanted. Though their relationship always more or less remained in tact, often the thing they were fighting over didn't. And that's all her sister was to them, a thing. Why couldn't it have just been the Pharaoh? Wasn't Neith supposed to protect her sister?_

_ "It's okay. It's okay." Nesmut hushed Shashai, holding her close. "Nessy's here. I'm going to fix this, okay? Don't worry. It'll all be over soon. I'll find a way, I promise."_

_ She just hoped whatever that way was that the two of them would emerge from it, together and whole._

* * *

_ The palace was a splendor to behold, but Nesmut absorbed none of it. She didn't even notice that the ceremony was short by one priest. The wizened voice of the High Priest in front of her, holding a papyrus scroll and a sharpened reed in his hands, came into her ears as if she were listening from underwater. _

_ "And, Shashai, by coming here you agree to the following: that you accept his Royal Majesty, the Great Pharaoh Atemu's, hand in marriage, that you have brought with you all of your belongings that you wish, to live here forevermore in his house, and that you will be faithful to him and only him, as long as this union exists. You agree to this?"_

_ Nesmut absorbed all of this, her head thick as cotton. She was dressed in a stark white, sheer robe, with gold accessories adorned over her hair, her waist, and her wrists. She knew she had never looked so illustrious and refined in all her life, but she cared nothing for it. All that matter was the black and white shell necklace with a little, white starfish as the centerpiece hanging around her neck. It was the only thing she'd brought with her, other than the clothes on her back, and right now, as she clung to it fiercely with one hand, it was the only thing that held any true value for her._

_ "Yes, I agree," Nesmut replied, trying and failing to keep her from sounding so defeated. _This is for your sister. For her happiness. No one need ever know.

_As the High Priest quickly carved what Nesmut assumed was her name and compliance onto the marriage contract in his hand, he concluded the ceremony._

_ Nesmut turned toward her new husband, finding his unique, violet eyes watching her closely. Was he afraid she'd faint? She honestly felt like it, but oddly enough, she felt herself calming as she took in his handsome features, his gentle expression, and his odd, tri-colored hairstyle that somehow made him look even more kingly. He must truly be a god to carry it so well; it would look ridiculous on anyone else._

_ The Pharoah Atemu almost claimed her lips with his when the doors to the throne room crashed open._

_ "Put a stop to this travesty at once!"_

_ Nesmut jerked back, watching as who could only be the High Priest Seth stride into the room, his features dark as a storm cloud over the Nile as several guards flanked him from behind._

_ "My brother," the Pharaoh said from beside her, civility still in his voice as he spoke, "what is the meaning of this?"_

_ Nesmut saw the answer before Seth could reply. Restrained between two guards, with several bruises distorting the color of her beautiful, bronzed skin was her sister._

_ "Shashai!" Nesmut choked out, rushing forward, willing to fight to get to her sister. She didn't get far, as Seth stepped in front of her path, backhanding her so hard, it sent her straight to the floor._

_ "These whores have deceived you, my Pharaoh, as they tried to deceive me. This one," Seth said, waving in a mockingly grand gesture to Shashai, who was crying between the two guards, her eyes only on her sister's crumpled form, "is the woman who you were supposed to marry. The same woman who also promised herself to me. And this disgrace on the floor before us is her twin sister. No doubt they believed they could fool both of us, whoring themselves to gain _our _power and the wealth of _our_ prestige!"_

_ "No!" Nesmut cried, glaring hatred up at Seth. "It wasn't like that!"_

_ "They should be punished, my Pharaoh. I volunteer myself for the honors––"_

_ Nesmut turned towards the Pharaoh, desperation coloring her every move. "I only did it to protect her from _him!_" She jabbed a hand blindly in Seth's direction. "Coming here and doing this was the only way he'd leave her alone. If he believed she had already chosen you––"_

_ "Silence!" Seth growled, stepping forward to strike Nesmut again._

_ "Hold." The Pharaoh's voice was low and deep, but no one could doubt the power and authority behind it. Nesmut froze, terror beginning to choke her over what was about to happen._

Punish me, not Shashai. She had nothing to do with this. This was me. This was all me. Just let her go. Please.

_ A hand appeared in front of her face. Nesmut blinked back her tears, shocked as the Pharaoh helped her to her feet. Atemu gestured for the guards to release Shashai, and they did so without question. Shashai ran past a tensed, seething Seth, flinging herself into Nesmut's arms. Nesmut felt her fear subside as rage filled her body with every tear Shashai shed and every new mark she saw that Seth had inflicted on her body. Is this the way a High Priest was allowed to behave?_

_ "Explain," came the Pharaoh's order over Shashai's tears and apologies, and Nesmut did just that, curtly and concisely._

_ What struck her most about the whole thing was that the Pharaoh actually listened. He was understanding, and the longer she spoke, the more that horrible, disappointed look melted from his face. Shashai seemed to sense it, too, because she calmed herself down. Seth only grew more enraged as she spoke._

_ At the end of Nesmut's explaining, Atemu's violet gaze fell on Shashai. "If you wanted to remain in the service of Neith, why did you not say so at our first meeting?"_

_ Shashai swallowed, saying meekly, "I didn't want to upset you, my Pharaoh. I thought you would..."_

_ "Hurt you?" he finished gently. "Or perhaps even kill you?"_

_ Shashai couldn't look at him. She could only nod pathetically. "I'm so sorry."_

_ "No, I am sorry," the Pharaoh replied, a mirthless smile forming on his face. "My father was a great man, but I'm afraid that some of his crueler actions as a Pharaoh have tainted general public opinion against me. I suspect I'll be paying for his order to massacre Kul-Elna for some time. But I am not my father. If my subjects are to be happy under my rule, they need to know that they can trust me. If they fear me, trust will be impossible."_

_ Atemu looked to the High Priest who'd overseen the ceremony. _

_ "Annul the marriage, and let them both go free."_

_ Nesmut and Shashai's happiness and relief, however, was short-lived._

_ "What?" Seth spat out, disbelieving. "You cannot be serious, my Pharaoh! You'd let these whores go free, just like that?"_

_ "I would mind your tongue if I were you, Seth. I doubt Neith will appreciate you slandering one of her own. Though one of the lesser goddesses, the Virgin Mother is still a formidable foe." Atemu smirked at Seth, but his features softened into a smile as he gave one last gaze to the two twin sisters._

_ "They will never respect you if they don't fear you!" Seth yelled at the Pharaoh's retreating back, refusing to back down._

_ "This conversation has ceased, Seth."_

_ But Seth wasn't about to be humiliated in front of the whole royal court without a consolation prize._

_More swiftly than Nesmut thought him capable, Seth withdrew a golden rod—what she would later identify as the Millennium Rod—and unsheathed the bottom to reveal a wicked, gleaming dagger. Without thinking, Nesmut shoved her sister as far from her as she could at the same time that Seth lunged._

_ Cries of alarm went out around the room, but Nesmut barely heard them. Things were suddenly moving so sluggishly._

_But Nesmut's reflexes had always been quick. She knew she could dodge the blade. Seth's swing was aggressive but wild. She'd get away with minimal damage, and then she and Shashai could escape, somehow. They could find a way to leave this place, leave Egypt, together. It didn't matter where as long as Shashai was safe and happy and away from _him!

_ But then something happened that she hadn't expected. Something that should never have happened. _

_ As if Nesmut was having some sort of out-of-body experience, she watched as she hurled herself not _from_ the thirsty blade's path but _towards_ it, arms spread out as if welcoming death itself into her embrace. Her body had failed her. She wasn't going to move in time. _

I'm sorry, Shashai.

_ But then she realized what was really happening, her mind finally catching up with her surroundings. The world was speeding up, coalescing into this one single sight before her. That wasn't Nesmut casting herself before the blade. It was Shashai!_

_ "Shashai!"_

_ "Nessy! No!"_

_ The blade drove down, and the soft _ssshnk_ of metal cocooning itself into flesh was deafening. A wound that would have been a mere cut had transformed into a lethal strike to the heart. Her sister's heart. _

_ Her sister's-!_

_ "Shashai! Shashai, NO!_

You fucking martyr! You perfect, selfless girl, don't do this to me! Please!

_ Nesmut caught her twin as she fell back, caring a great deal that her wedding robes were being stained with her sister's blood. Not because she cared about the damn clothes, but because every drop pouring onto them meant her sister was getting closer to-NO!_

_ "Shashai?" Nesmut was stroking her soft, dark hair, trying to gain her attention. To keep her sister with her and out of Anubis' domain. "Shashai, dearest. It's alright. I'm here, I'm here. You're alright, you're-"_

_ Shashai's eyes opened, but instead of being relieved, Nesmut went numb. She could feel her own heart splintering in her chest. Her sister's cobalt eyes were glossy and distant. She wasn't going to last much longer. _

_ NO!_

_ "Shashai! Lovely one, sister, please! Stay with me! You're going to be––"_

_ She stopped. Her sister was raising her hand, trembling and blood-soaked where she'd clutched at her wound when she fell, but she was raising it. Did that mean––? Was she going to be okay? Was it Neith? _

_ Just as she was about to thank the goddess, Shashai's shaking fingers stroked the shell necklace Nesmut was still wearing, even for her false wedding. Even that brief brush stained some of the pure white shells red. Her hand trailed down to rest over Nesmut's heart. Nesmut grasped Shashai's hand, desperate, not wanting to believe what her sister was trying to tell her. _

Don't forget me. I love you.

_ And before she could protest, the light and beauty her sister had always carried with her left her body as it gave one final shudder. Shashai was still, her eyes still fixed on Nesmut's, lifeless and dark, and suddenly, in less than a minute, that's what Nesmut's whole world had become. _

_ A world without light or love. _

_ A life of vengeance against the two men who had utterly destroyed her world, one with his lust and wrath, the other with his selfishness and passivity. _

_ A faithless existence where her belief in her gods and goddesses died the same second as her beloved Shashai had. _

_ And then she found the thieves. Or rather, they found her._

* * *

In hindsight, Nesmut had every right to tell Téana she'd told her so. Téa herself found it cruelly ironic that Nesmut was holding her while she cried and sniffled quietly. It should have been the other way around. Nesmut's body was tense, but she didn't push Téana away.

"That's right. Let it out for me, huh?" Nesmut's dim voice carried over her. "I can't for myself anymore, you know?"

"I don't even know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," Nesmut replied as Téa pulled herself away to look at her. "It was five years ago, not that that makes it any better. The whole 'I'm sorry' bit has just gotten stale."

"Can I ask you something?" At Nesmut's affirmative, Téa said, "I understand why you want Seth to pay for what he did. You know I can sympathize, but... Why do you want revenge against Y––the Pharaoh? He was going to let you both go. It didn't sound like he was being cruel at all."

"No. Worse. He was sympathetic, and everyone knows that Seth doesn't abide weakness, even if it is from the oh-so-mighty Pharaoh. A flogging would have been more merciful than tempting Seth's anger. And besides, he stood there and did nothing."

Now more sure of Yami's character in this time, Téa felt an obligation to defend her friend. "I'm sure he would have if he knew––"

"Téana! Open your eyes for a second and _think!_" said Nesmut, exasperated. "Since my sister's death, the relationship between the Pharaoh and Seth has been strained, sure, but it still lasts. Atemu didn't strip Seth of his title, he didn't cast him out, he didn't kill him or punish him in any way for murdering an innocent girl. In fact, he still regards Seth as his right hand, even though now we both know that he's torturing more innocent people just to get to their Ka, all while the Pharaoh lives in blissful ignorance. That's worse than doing nothing. That's just another example of abiding the problem! Just like with Kul-Elna," she trailed off softly.

Téa made a mental note to ask about what Kul-Elna was at some other time. Right now, she was trying to reconcile her image of Yami to the one Nesmut had presented to her. Somehow, they were both missing something. She knew it. Yami wouldn't have let a crime so horrifying go, especially when it happened right in front of him. After all, he had saved her from that creep that'd lured her to a fake dance studio a year ago present time, and he hadn't even known who she was then. That kind of morality was inherent, not restrictive to one's memories. Yami, no, Atemu would have done something after Nesmut fled the palace, something to punish Seth. She just wasn't aware of it. All the better for it. Seth deserved every kind of retribution he got.

"It's just horrible," said Téa, choosing to keep her pro-Pharaoh opinions to herself.

"Yeah." Nesmut nodded. "I suppose it would be if any of it were true."

The world stilled as Téa whipped her head up to stare at the twenty-one year old, completely aghast. It would be if it were _what?_

"You did not just make all that up." Nesmut only smiled slyly, staring unblinkingly back at her. "You didn't. I _know_ you didn't." There was no possible way Nesmut would do that.

Right?

"No," the dark-skinned woman said slowly, that same cunning smile curling her lips. "I didn't. But let this be a lesson to you, girlie. Others here would. They've had a lot of practice at sob stories. It's how they gain entrance to other people's homes. Why bust your way in when you can be _invited_ in? You let yourself be taken in by some schmuck here, and you're gonna get hurt."

Téa must have looked like a fish out of water to Nesmut with how much she was grinning.

"That was sooooo wrong," Téa scolded fruitlessly. Nesmut shrugged her shoulders, standing from her chair as she noticed that Téana had eaten all of her apple.

"Hmm, now what was it that Seth said to me as I was led from the room? Oh, yeah, right. 'It's just politics'. And sadly, he was right."

Quickly changing the subject before Téana could reply, Nesmut asked her, "On a scale of 'I'm fucking fabulous' to 'Just put me in a tomb already', how are you feeling?"

Téa blinked, wondering if such a drastic change in Nesmut's mood signified a good thing or not. "I think we can settle for a distinct level of 'uuggghh'."

The dark-haired thief chuckled lightly. "Let's get us a bath then."

Mercifully, no one else was at the baths, and if anyone had been, Téa wasn't sure if she would have cared about how many people saw her naked. She craved a bath that much. That, and she needed some time to think. It seemed to her that this mission kept getting more complicated.

After that was accomplished, the two women dressed, and Téa followed Nesmut as she went to complete her other duties. Which mostly just consisted today of quizzing Téana on where places were in the hideout, which tunnel they were currently in, where did this one or that one go, and so on. This took up the rest of the evening until Nesmut was sure Téana had a basic idea of where everything was and how the hideout was structured. It wouldn't do if she accidently stumbled into the men's barracks or Bakura's room. Even Nesmut wasn't sure which one would really be worse. Most of the men here were pigs, and Bakura was, well, Bakura.

And when it was clear that Téa wasn't going to throw up any of her food, Nesmut allotted her two more apples for dinner. Peeled, of course.

Honestly, Téa was surprised to not see a trace of Odion, Malik, or Bakura the whole day. When she voiced that thought aloud, Nesmut only shrugged and told her to be thankful.

"They're probably together, plotting some nefarious scheme. When they're ready to let us know what's up, they will. And then you'll wish they'd stayed gone."

As promised, Téa had a cot set up on the floor of Nesmut's spacious room to sleep in that night. It wasn't as grand a room as Bakura's had been, but that was fine with her. Nesmut's room was actually nice. There was a large wardrobe along one wall that housed all of Nesmut's favorite clothes. A chair next to it was buried under various garments and fabrics of all kinds of colors and shapes. The dancer was touched when Nesmut told her that stack was for her to choose clothes from, though Téa was sure she'd prefer just more outfits like the one she was wearing. The simpler, the better.

Nesmut collapsed in her bed after dressing Téa's burns, complaining that she had to get up earlier the next morning to do some vague chore for Bakura. She informed Téa she could sleep in a little, but it would be better for her if she came and found her the next morning as soon as she could. The brunette silently agreed with her. The last thing she wanted was to piss off Bakura again.

But getting up the next morning would be a problem, since Téa couldn't find it in her to shut off her mind long enough to rest. Her thoughts surged with Nesmut's heartbreaking tale, her conflict over Yami, her uncertainty about Malik, and her trepidation over Bakura. Before long, though, those thoughts subsided, replaced with ones that were far worse. She thought of Thema and Jabari, and Seth. Particularly their last moments all together. It proved too much. The brunette already felt so raw and exposed physically. Her earlier confessions to Nesmut and Nesmut's own horrible memories had left her emotionally vulnerable, so much so that she was finally able to do the one thing for her lost friends that she hadn't been able to until then.

The floodgates opened, and Téa buried her face into her pillow, stifling the sounds. With every teardrop came a release for her pent up emotions: sorrow, guilt, anger, loss, vengeance, and even love. It was the best goodbye and send off she could offer for the dear Egyptian couple. Somehow, she knew they'd understand.

Nesmut had to hand it to Téana. She was giving her all not to let her sobs keep the thief awake, but Nesmut knew from experience that holding back only made it worse.

Normally, she'd give the girl a hard time about it, but not this time. Those tears sounded too familiar to make any wisecracks.

After all, she'd been there once herself.

* * *

**AN: Assuming you all are now thoroughly pissed at my meanness, allow me a moment to appeal to you: some Malik/Tea interaction will definitely be in the next chapter. I've got a good bit of it outlined, and I think you guys are going to enjoy it. Seriously. And as always, I look forward to hearing from ALL of you. Hint hint or whatever.**

**I guess now I'll get to some notes on the story. More of the thieves will be shown as the tale goes on, but I hope you liked the minor scene I had with a few of them here. Nesmut's "_Screw!_" dialogue is actually inspired from the character Yossarian in one of my favorite books, _Catch-22_. It's an acquired taste, but I think it's absolutely hilarious, and I felt that it fit Nesmut's character pretty well.  
**

**I've also revealed that Nesmut is a twin, same as Odion. It's one of the reasons why they get along so amiably with each other. They've both lost their twins, albeit in different ways. I finally settled on Shashai, which as explained in the story means "necklace," for the name of Nesmut's twin. Other names I considered were Aria, who was recorded as an Ancient Egyptian priestess, and Kakra, which means "twin."**

**I also took a few liberties with how Nesmut and her family were provided for just because her father was a soldier and her sister was an apprentice priestess. I don't know one hundred percent how much such positions in Egyptian society helped the families of those people who were a part of the military or the clergy, mostly because no one is really one hundred percent sure. There isn't enough information left over from this time to be sure. However, if Ancient Egypt is anything like Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, or the Babylonian Empire, then great regard was certainly placed on soldiers and religious individuals in society. After all, city-states back then were regarded by how well they could protect themselves from invasion, and religion was often a point of unity and cohesion in society. Egyptians cared a great deal for their gods, so it makes sense that they honor the people in society who was a voice for their gods.**

**On the matter of marriage, there hasn't been any evidence of any kind of formal ceremony as we're used to today. There were after-parties, sure, but nothing like what we do now. In fact, a man and a women were considered married if the woman moved all her stuff into the man's house. Damn, that's a money saver, huh? The only formal thing Egyptians did was to have both parties in the marriage sign a marriage contract. Or, if they couldn't write, they had a scribe do it for them. Law and legal documents held a lot of importance in Egyptian society, so that's probably why the written document was the most important thing, rather than holding something like a wedding. Also, divorces could legally happen, and it wasn't only the man who could have one. Women could divorce their husbands, too. And though many marriages were arranged, a lot of people also married for love, as various love poetry has been found from the area implying as such.**

**And again I have, hopefully, demonstrated that the family unit was the most important unit in an Egyptian's life. Terms like "sister" or "brother" were often used, not just between siblings, but also between husbands and wives, blood related or not, as terms of deepest affection. That's why Atemu referred to Seth as "brother." I do not want you to think I've made them blood related, though they may have been in the anime. I'm not really sure. Oh, and disclaimer, they're not married, either. Just so we're clear.**

**Also, Egyptians made their own beer, and they made a lot of it. Richer people also made their own wine, but Nesmut and Shashai weren't quiet in that rich category. Let's just say, they had enough to be comfortable.**

**Neith is a goddess with all the roles I described. She was an earlier lesser goddess, but I felt her role was appropriate. She was the only one I could find with something virgin related to justify why Shashai wanted to remain a virgin priestess. Egyptians really liked sex, guys. They weren't shy. They didn't have these virgin urges like the Greeks did with Artemis, Athena, and Hestia. But she is known as the Virgin Goddess, because the myths have her giving birth to a lot of things, even Ra at one point, without a man in sight. So there you go. Also, as a goddess of wisdom, she actually intervened once in a dispute between Horus and Seth. Ironic, given the confrontation in this chapter between Atemu, who is affiliated with the Eye of Horus, and the High Priest Seth, who I've really made to take after the evil god he's named after.**

**So what do you guys think? As always, I look forward to hearing from you.**


	14. Ch 14: Push

Chapter Fourteen: Push

"I mean it, Odion. I _really_ don't think this is a good idea."

The large man's sighs were becoming a regular occurrence to Téa's list of experiences while staying in Egypt.

"Just try it. One throw at least."

Téa looked forlornly down at the two daggers she held in her hands. Up to this point, she'd been lucky not to cut off a finger with them. Throwing them, however, seemed as possible to her as emerging from the tunnels and finding that a snowstorm was raging outside. And for how close the target actually was, to the weapons-deficient Téa Gardner, the distance between her and the target appeared to grow the way the top of a skyscraper looms above you the closer you get. All the same, the dancer took a deep breath then raised her right arm—her throwing arm—holding the blade as delicately as she could between thumb and index finger.

She had no idea if this was the proper technique, but since she had been training with Odion for a week now, she knew that he was the type who offered advice only _after_ she crashed and burned. He believed that there was more teaching to be done in the failure rather than the success of an action, and her failures were many.

The brunette waited a moment longer before hurling the dagger forward––

Only to watch it curve in a pathetic arc that landed it several feet in front and to the right of her target. Her concern with not cutting herself and the general awkwardness of her hold on the weapon caused her throw to lack any considerable power or aim. A shame, considering that she'd always had a decent arm when her class played baseball during gym class. Snickers and comments she'd rather just leave alone floated around her from the other men in the room. Men who were supposed to be brushing up on their own techniques but were instead gathering around to watch her.

Icarus and his melting wings of wax had nothing on her humiliation in that moment.

Somehow, she managed not to wince at the deadpan stare Odion was currently leveling at her. Shrugging, all the could think to say was, "I did tell you so."

Odion's silence was stifling. Téa still didn't know him well at all despite his efforts to teach her some basic skills now that her injuries had healed enough to allow her to learn beyond mere theory. Therefore, she couldn't tell if he was thinking of another way to approach their lessons, or if he was contemplating the best way to use her second knife to put her out of her misery.

Either thought was unsettling.

"Do you at least want to know what you did wrong?"

"Other than completely missing the target, you mean?" Her attempt at humor failed pitifully. Still not even a trace of a smile on the man's countenance.

Ignoring the girl, Odion approached her, taking the other dagger from her hand. He held it the same way she had, on the blade.

"This was your first mistake. These knives are too sharp to hold in such a way, especially at your level. The grip itself was good, but it must be held here instead, on the handle." He moved his fingers to the indicated location. Téa could have hit herself at such an obvious miscalculation. The handle was thin enough to hold comfortably, after all.

"Also, your stance was imbalanced. Again. Watch me one more time."

_One more time_. Another common experience.

Odion widened his stance, bending slightly at the knees and centering his weight. Then, dagger still in the proper position in his hand, he took a slight step toward the target, flung his arm forward, and released the weapon out in front of him. As expected, in a flash of movement that was graceful even on such a tall man, the dagger embedded itself into the shiny, red apple sitting innocently on a high stool before them. The weight of the dagger caused the apple to fall on its side like a dog playing dead, with the knife's handle resting at a slight angle against the stool.

All in all, Téa supposed she shouldn't feel as surprised as she was. Throwing techniques hadn't changed in three thousand years, but still. There was a notable difference in throwing a ball for someone else to catch and in throwing a blade that a more unfortunate soul couldn't dodge.

After her instructor removed his thrown knife from the apple and reset the target, he stepped aside and motioned for her wordlessly.

_Try again._

Just as silent, Téa grabbed another dagger off the table beside her, blocking out the voices around her, like Nesmut had been trying to teach her all week.

The veteran thief would be less than pleased to know it wasn't working for her student so well in that moment, but the results of Tea's next throw would have been sure to make her laugh.

Following Odion's advice, Téa gripped the dagger by the handle and assumed the proper stance, all the while trying to channel the pitching talents of Daisuke Matsuzaka.

Her success, she supposed, depends on your point of view.

Téa moved her whole body with the forward motion, granting her throw both power and speed.

But without aim, that wasn't much progress.

As expected, the dagger didn't hit the apple, but it did hit the wood of the stool, ricocheting off of it so hard that several men surrounding the area let out cries of alarm as they dove out of the way from the blade's trajectory.

Téa smiled, turning her face away so only Odion could see her expression. He only shook his own head, indifferent to the situation.

Sometimes, Fate liked her.

But her humor couldn't last for long. Téa knew that her lack of talent with a weapon was damaging to Bakura's generosity for allowing her to stay here. That was part of his terms. If she survived from her ordeal, which she clearly had, then she had to be useful. And useful here apparently meant she had to be a war machine.

Right.

As it was, she was running out of options. So far, they'd tried spears (which they'd stopped with when she almost impaled herself), whips (with which she'd nearly popped herself in the eye, when she wasn't busy getting herself tangled in it), and a battle ax (which she hadn't had close to the arm strength for in the first place). All that was left to her now was hand-to-hand combat, dagger throwing, and perhaps sword wielding, though arm strength would still be a major issue for the latter, swords in this time only being made out of bronze.

"It's a start," Odion said tonelessly, looking neither pleased nor disappointed at her last debacle. "Practice it some more, and we'll try again in a few days." And then he walked off without any further instruction or passing judgment.

For Téa, this was normal. Odion usually left when he had nothing more to do with her, even if that meant leaving her there, speaking to him in mid-sentence. She'd learned not to mind too much; that's just how he was. Detached. Distant. And in some ways, distracted.

The brunette had a feeling about what his inattentiveness was about. Nesmut had been acting a little odd for the past week as well, and she hadn't seen Malik or Bakura at all.

Something was about to happen. Something big.

She'd tried to wheedle information out of Nesmut, only to be pointedly told that her persuasion and cunning needed some work. All she could really do now was prepare for whatever would come as best she knew how.

Which meant finding strength in numbers at this point. Where _was_ Nesmut, anyway?

Quitting the training area altogether––but not without sheathing one of the daggers in the knife holster around her waist, an uncharacteristic gift from Odion––Téa left the few, lingering jeers of the men and the clashing of weapons behind her.

She actually found Nesmut in their shared room, but she almost missed the older girl as she was half buried under a pile of dirty clothes, only her legs and arms showing, the latter wrapped around the clothes in a brace.

"What's going on?" Téa gently asked, not wanting to startle her or make her think someone had tried to sneak up on her. Thieves were quite the paranoid bunch.

"Laundry day. Hand me a basket or something useful."

Eyes darting around the room, Téa finally located a large, woven basket peeking from the bottom of miscellaneous items Nesmut had piled on top of it. Struggling for a bit, the dancer managed to free the basket and not spill too many things in the process. Nesmut dumped the clothes inside it after Téa placed it in front of her.

"If you've got anything clean to wear, I'd go ahead and put it on, so we can get as much washed as we can," said Nesmut. Téa was slightly surprised that Nesmut would want her to come with her, but she reasoned that this would be only another way to earn her keep. Especially since training had been such a disaster. Finding a clean set of clothes folded under a chair—a simple matching ensemble of thin, tan pants and a shirt—Téa donned the clothes and tossed her dirty ones in the basket, too. That's when she noticed that there were far, far more clothes in the basket than she and Nesmut had worn, many articles unrecognizable.

"These aren't ours, are they?"

"Most aren't, no. The men have been dumping them in the women's rooms all morning, since they know it's washing day. C'mon, follow me. We'll take turns carrying."

The two navigated their way through the tunnels, passing a few men here and there. Most stared at Téa curiously, but occasionally a comment or two would reach the girls' ears, not all of them particularly flattering. One man's remark actually had Téa duck her head down to avoid any eye contact when he exclaimed to his friends, "Hey, boys, looks like we finally got some snow in Egypt!" Instead of simply walking by as they had all the others, Nesmut actually turned her head to the source, a flinty smile on her face. "I'd be careful if I were you, Hasani. Snow matures quickly into frost, and frost tends to bite."

The man's amused laughter echoed along the walls as they continued on, Nesmut appearing unaffected. Somehow, the sudden lightness of the situation and Nesmut's relaxed air set Téa back at ease.

"Thank you," she said.

"You'll learn," replied the Egyptian.

Gradually, they were joined by other women who were in pairs or groups of three or four, each laughing or engaged in their own conversation. Spilling into the opening chamber of the cave, Nesmut set her basket down before sitting on top of its over-filled contents, looking bored. Other women around them did the same, some sitting like Nesmut while others remained standing. They were waiting for everyone to arrive, it looked like.

Téa observed the others around her and was shocked at just how many women the band constituted. It looked like Bakura didn't shy away from being an Equal Opportunity Employer. So far, there looked to be around twenty women at least, some with tanned skin like Nesmut, others with darker skin like molasses, and a few who had lighter skin that reminded Téa of the whiskey her father used to drink. Her nostalgia faded after she quickly realized that, out of all the women here, she was by far the most different and therefore the most noticeable. Looks as if her teacher, Mr. Niwa, had been right: things really did change when you go somewhere where you are the minority.

And it seemed the other women noticed that, too.

Searching for a distraction, Téa asked her friend, "Isn't this a little degrading and out-of-character for you? I mean, you keep saying, 'You look after yourself around here!' yet we're still doing their _clothes?_"

Nesmut snorted. "Normally, I would say, 'Yeah! Screw them! They can do their own damn laundry!' But we actually tried that before, and the stench was _unbearable!_ If we weren't living in such close quarters, _underground _of all places, it'd be different. Our brief sacrifice of equality is doing us all a favor. Besides, a large group of women going down to the river looks far less suspicious to any passersby than a group of machismo guys, don't you think?"

Their amused laughter at the thought was cut short when a few of the women approached them. One of them was petite with a genuine smile on her face that never seemed to fade, wearing a cotton dress of pure white. The offset of the color against her dark skin and eyes was striking, and though the dress was spotted here and there with blotches of sand and dirt, she didn't seem to mind. She greeted Nesmut warmly, which Nesmut returned a little stoically, introducing Téa to the group.

"Téana, this is Saran, the Woman Who Never Frowns."

The woman in question, Saran, laughed briefly, her brown eyes twinkling in amusement. "Nesmut and her little jokes. You're telling fibs on me to your friend here. I happen to frown often, but in private, unlike you, darling Nesmut."

"Now who's telling fibs?" Nesmut grinned, but it was brief. "And, sorry, we're being rude. The one who looks like she hasn't slept in a month is Miu—" Here, Nesmut gestured to the woman on Saran's right. The oldest of the group, looking to be in her late-twenties and wearing a faded, blue robe, nodded wearily in Téa's direction, simultaneously expecting and ignoring Nesmut's sassiness. "—and the one who looks like a dung beetle just flew up her nose is Nefertari."

"Charming, as always," came the silky response, a scowl adorning Nefertari's beautiful face.

Clearly a native, this woman looked as comfortable in her surroundings as a bird does in flight. Unlike a bird, however, which adapts to the wind currents, Nefertari held herself as if she expected the world to conform to her every need and whim. The confidence and pride in her features only proved that, and Téa saw plenty of reasons for her to be so: her rich, teal-colored eyes were rimmed in kohl as smoothly as if produced from a calligrapher's hand; her straight, thick, black hair shimmered even in the half-light of the cave; and a deep purple dress called a kalasiris, with glints of gold here and there from various adornments, draped her body. The woman clearly viewed herself as something like a queen.

"I try," Nesmut quipped. "But what did you get all dolled up for? I seem to recall that today is Laundry Day, not Nefer's-Gonna-Get-Us-All-Arrested-Because-She's-We aring-The-Royal-Color-Out-In-Public Day."

"I'm sure if any of the royal guards are out and about," said Saran, "Nefer will just win them over with her charm."

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"

Nefertari, however, appeared to have had enough of Nesmut's snide remarks, for she cut in, "So, whose is she?" nodding her head in Téa's direction, to the dancer's growing confusion. "Mahu's? Amun's? Malik's?"

"Wha—?"

"She's Bakura's," Nesmut deadpanned. Téa's head whipped to look at Nesmut, eyes widened comically.

_"What_? _Her?"_ Nefertari scoffed. "Come now, don't play your games with me. Since when has Bakura shown interest in women like that?"

_Hey, what's that supposed to mean, lady?_ Téa had the distinct impression that she should be insulted, but she also knew that any conversation that involved Bakura she wanted to steer clear from.

"She's not sleeping with him, you idiot! He's testing her."

_Oh. OH! That's what they're talking about… Wait, what? _Okay, Téa knew what she was doing with this whole time traveling business was crazy, but—God—_her_ sleep with _Bakura_ of all people? First off, no. Second off, she didn't have a death wish just yet. And third off, _hell_ no!

"...Oh. I see." Why did Nefertari suddenly sound so disappointed? With how territorial she was acting, shouldn't she be gleeful, like a witch stirring her cauldron full of foiled dreams and uncharted mayhem?

"Oh, _you see, _do you? Well, good. You know not to interfere then. Pass the word along, will you? We all know what happens to people who get in the way of Bakura's fun by now, don't we?" The sudden warning in Nesmut's tone left little doubt that her statement had been rhetorical. Deadly rhetorical.

"No need to get nasty. But if what you say is true, then, new girl," Nefertari said, fully looking at Téa for the first time, and Téa admitted to herself that she had trouble holding the strong gaze of this powerful woman, "I wish you luck."

Téa couldn't read her now at all. At first, this woman had reminded her of Mai when they'd first met, but now… Now, she couldn't tell at all if her words were sincere or not, her expression and voice were so controlled, so Téa did the only thing that made sense to her in that situation. Giving a little bow, she thanked her, not catching the look of puzzlement Nesmut cast at her.

* * *

Téa squinted in the harsh light of the sun, unused to the natural light outside. It didn't help that the light was reflecting off the sand around her, making it appear ghostly white. The air rippling with heat in the distance, and she could already feel her exposed skin baking. Luckily, her shirt and pants were long and helped shield her from the brunt of it. The lack of humidity was certainly nice, she thought, but she still felt flabbergasted about how it was possible still be so _hot_.

"I swear, she's always got a cactus up her ass about something. Not the most attractive trait," grouched Nesmut as she continued her running commentary about the women they'd met, Nefertari being her latest target. As they walked along the sand, Téa smile as she saw their destination in the distance, the river's surface glinting with light. Or maybe that was the heat she was seeing.

"What exactly was that about?" asked Téa.

"Oh, really, don't mind Nefer. She's an acquired taste, and I mean that in _every_ available sense of the word."

"Nesmut," said Téa seriously, "if I'm going to survive here, I need to know as much as possible, don't you think? Especially the behind-the-scenes stuff."

Sighing, her companion conceded her the victory.

"You saw what she was wearing, right? Yeah, I know, hard to miss. Obviously, all the stuff we have is stolen or has been acquired in some other…not so honest way. Basically, everyone here has a very specific skill set that benefits both themselves and the group as a whole, and that's why they're allowed to be here. We're trying to find yours, for instance, and depending on what it is, that will determine your worth."

"Yeah, I know. Malik told me a bit about this."

"Did he? Well, then you should know that Nefertari is what we call a Mover. Did he tell you about that?"

"Um," Téa stammered, coming up blank. Had Malik mentioned anything about that? She'd been sort of drugged up at the time, but not _that_ drugged up.

"Basically, she's multi-talented, and I'll deny it if you mention that I said that to anyone. We're dealing with enough egos as it is. Little Miss Perfect can simultaneously act as a lookout and puller. And she's one of the best decoys we've got. Honestly, that woman can act like none I've ever seen. She once made one of the pharaoh's lieutenants fall in love with her a few days before we'd planned to raid a tomb he was guarding, playing the broken victim who'd barely escaped us alive, you know, and before he realized it, she'd made off with his entire weapons' stash until he was left with nothing but his spear. Which, supposedly, she broke and killed him with herself. He's never turned up, so I guess it's true."

Téa gaped, speechless, to which Nesmut briefly laughed. She'd been doing that a lot around this girl lately. "I admit, it sounds like a tall tale—"

"Really tall," replied Téa. "I bet the man grows in size and the amount of weapons stolen increases with every retell."

"How'd you know?"

Some minutes later, they'd arrived at the river, and for the first time, Téa was overcome with its beauty. And its expanse. Off in the distance, she could even make out small boats—like canoes—in the water. All around her, the other women were dumping clothes here and there on the bank, some already wading in the water, but staying close to the shore. And—_oh_—some were disrobing completely. Embarrassed, Téa averted her eyes, decades of instilled privacy, respect of that privacy, and modesty compelling her to do little else.

Only to find that Nesmut was doing pretty much the same thing in front of her, wearing only her seashell necklace that seemed to glow against her tanned skin.

"What? It's hot. I don't understand what you're waiting for."

"…I blister easily," Téa lied pathetically. The two women stared into each other's eyes, Téa in the attempt to maintain decorum, and Nesmut because she could tell it made Téana uncomfortable. "And I'm shy."

"Now, that I believe. Well, if you won't relax with the rest of us, best get to work. Get some lye and grab a shirt. Oh, and watch for crocodiles."

"You're kidding."

"No."

The two got to work, and all the while Nesmut talked and Téa listened. She explained that Nefertari's usefulness came with certain perks for her, so much so that men often competed for her affection.

"That nice dress she's wearing? A gift from Mahu, if I'm willing to guess. It looks like it came from one of the Pharaoh's mistresses from our last raid on the palace. I bet a lot of things went missing from there that night."

"Is that why she seemed so…antagonistic? She thought I was, what, stealing her man?"

"Well, sort of. More like you were stealing her shiny things, and the number one rule of thievery out here is that you don't steal from another thief, unless you can handle their unholy wrath."

Téa chuckled softly, amused. "And here I thought she was getting jealous over Bakura, not that I understand why anyone would."

"Wow, you _are _brave. Better be grateful he wasn't here to hear that." Nesmut winked at her. "Besides, if anyone should have the right to become jealous of you over that man, I guess it would have to be me."

At that moment, Téa nearly slipped and fell into the Nile, clothes and all. "What? Are you serious? You and—and _Bakura?_"

"Yeah," Nesmut laughed before sobering quickly. "Yeah. Honestly, it's sort of ancient history now, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it wasn't ever anything _substantial_, you know? Shashai was—was gone, and I'd just joined the Thief King's band, and for a while I was out of it. I threw myself into just about anything: extra training, volunteering before anyone else to go on missions, to make runs, to steal, to kill—just anything to get my mind off of the fact that I was alone. And, I don't know, this was back when Bakura was first becoming known as a threat to the land; he was a bit different back then, a bit more fun, I guess. Still as embittered about the whole Kul-Elna thing, but fun. Something about me must have interested him or attracted him, and I was lonely and he made me forget that for awhile." Nesmut shrugged, wringing out a pair of now clean pants. "Once upon a time, we had a mutual, sexual attraction to each other, but it's never gone further than that. I don't think either of us is capable of more. Not to say that we don't still exploit that attraction from time to time, it's just—that's all there is, you know?"

Feeling herself blushing madly at Nesmut's honest and open approach to sex and sexuality—talk about a different world—Téa tried to focus and understand what the Egyptian was implying.

"And…that was okay with you? You never wished for more, right?"

"Not from Bakura, no. Ra, Téana, I'm pretty messed up, I know, but I'm not an _idiot_," said Nesmut. "Personally, I've got my sights set on Odie."

The thought of the restrained, silent Odion being with Nesmut, the epitome of sarcasm and wiliness, was hilarious to picture—yet strangely fitting—to Téa. Until she glanced over at Nesmut and saw the thief looking at her as if she knew exactly what Téa had been imagining—and simultaneously loved and pitied her for it.

Nesmut's eyes widened, surprised at her thoughts. _Loved, huh?_

Was it really so surprising, though? She'd already noticed how Téana reminded her of her sister. It only made sense that the girl could amuse her like Shashai once did. That she could smile and joke around her so easily. She should put a stop to this, shouldn't she? She should back off before she got hurt.

Brow furrowed, a sudden harsh frown on her face, Nesmut gripped the lye in her hand and began scrubbing her new dirty article of clothing with abandon. All the while, she said nothing, acknowledging another woman's shouted greeting with a stiff nod. To anyone else, it looked as if she were just focused on her work, willing them all to get serious and return to the hideout faster.

But they'd been cooped up in those close walls, squinting under dim lights, and smelling the same stale air for far too long for that to be the case.

Téa noticed Nesmut's swift change in mood but wasn't sure what to say or what could have caused it. It was strange to already be so attuned to a person in a span of only a few days, but somehow it felt so natural. It felt like she had a friend again. Maybe that was why she didn't miss Yugi and the others as much as she had when she first came here. After all, they would be there, waiting for her, when she finished her task presumably. Nesmut, however… Nesmut didn't appear to have anybody, and her last confession had pretty much confirmed that. If she did nothing else right, Téa wanted Nesmut to know that she was loved and appreciated. That they were friends.

For a moment, Téa questioned the wisdom of what she was about to do, but she couldn't foresee how it could truly hurt her later. Besides, there shouldn't be secrets kept between friends, and if she could afford to clear at least one of the many she had, it could at least be this one.

"Hey, Nesmut. Call me Téa. To be honest, I prefer it, but... That's what everyone calls me back home, so I'd appreciate it if you kept it...between us?"

The look in Nesmut's eyes was so searching, Téa imagined that her thoughts were now mired in the uncertainty that her own had been in only moments before. But since Nesmut was still mostly naked, Téa had to do all she could not to crack a smile and start giggling. The seriousness was now so very funny.

"I understand," said Nesmut slowly, feeling that her previous notions of maintaining distance had just been completely stolen out from under her, no doubt like that stupid lieutenant's weapons from Nefertari's story.

Was this what having a confidant felt like? Was this that thing called trust? Real trust, not just the word they threw around here when somebody wanted something? It'd been so long, but then again not _that_ long. Unbelievable that she had forgotten, that she had become so desensitized from it.

"Téa," huh? Somehow, that fit the girl even better than her given name. Just like, so long ago, "Nessy" had for her.

"Say, Téa." That really did sound better. That sounded right.

"…Yeah?"

"I'm really glad…you didn't die back there."

Téa grinned. "Yeah. Yeah, me too, actually."

Watching Téana—Téa—break down into a fit of giggles brought out a smile that Nesmut didn't even try to hold back. It'd probably be a waste of energy, and they were both already behind on the washing anyway, having talked so much. See? She'd stayed close. She'd made a friend, and her work ethic was already suffering… But Nesmut found that acting standoffish, or cruel, or angry at Téa was about as impossible as doing the same thing towards a kitten. It felt awful and futile, so why try?

Well, she'd had sex with Bakura. More than once. And enjoyed it. Clearly, she was a glutton for doing things that were bad for her. Repeatedly.

What could one more bad thing hurt?

* * *

"I still can't believe you pushed me into the river."

Nesmut maintained a straight face as she lounged on her bed, patiently waiting for Téa to change clothes for the second time that day. "I know, right? You are _way_ lighter than I thought you were."

"I could have been _eaten_."

"Nah, I checked for crocodiles beforehand," Nesmut fibbed. "Besides, you looked _really_ hot. You probably would have passed out on the walk back, and since you were the one carrying the basket, that would have meant dirtying all the clothes I worked so hard to wash."

"You mean, the clothes that _I _worked so hard to wash."

"You can move out anytime you want. There's the door."

"Yeah, yeah."

They were interrupted by a curt knock on Nesmut's makeshift door. Tossing a change of clothes to Téa, who was busy removing her wet clothes behind a changing screen, Nesmut hurried to answer it before whoever was on the other side could barge in.

"What?" she snapped, slamming the door closed behind her. The thief before her—a young man with a built frame, world-weary, dark-gray eyes, and a stylish, black goatee, took a step back in surprise at her sudden appearance. He masked his surprise with a quick, exaggerated eye roll at the woman's antics. He never seemed to catch her on a good day. Nesmut scowled when she realized—not for the first time—that he was taller than her. Much taller. And she was a decent height herself, dammit!

"Oh, Wati, it's just you," she said.

"Just me? Wow, thanks," he quipped sarcastically. "I'm feeling the love so much right now."

"You wanted something?"

"Not me. Lord Bakura." Nesmut sobered at that admission. "He wants to see you. Immediately. Oh, and tell the new girl that I'll be expecting her in the treasury after dinner. Seems like I'm finally getting some help in there. I hope she's trustworthy?"

"She is," Nesmut gritted out, feeling like she'd just missed the last step on a staircase. Why was Bakura assigning Téa to the treasury? Was he just looking for an easier reason to have her stringed up? If anything in that room went missing or was misplaced…

"Fine," she finished, leaving Wati standing there without a second glance as she returned to her room.

"Um, Nesmut?" Téa's voice squeaked from behind the screen. "Are you sure I should wear this? It's a little showy and—"

"Why are you being sent to the treasury?"

A slight pause filled the room, and then Téa answered. "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. I asked Malik if I could be assigned there as a bookkeeper or something. I guess he must have talked to Bakura, then?"

"You guess right," Nesmut intoned shortly.

"You sound upset."

Nesmut shut her eyes, searching for patience. "I'm _not _upset." She was _a little_ upset, but why? "I just don't understand—we don't _need_ a bookkeeper. We're constantly moving. I mean, can you even write in our language, Téa?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure, but if not I'm sure there's something else I can do for the place. Listen, though, about this shirt, I don't think—"

"If any of that stuff goes missing—no, seriously, look, if even so much as a _ring _is unaccounted for, if a delicate fabric so much as frays, it doesn't matter if you have the records to prove your innocence. Bakura hones in on that kind of crap… No, you know what? Whatever. Do what you want, Téa. I'm not your keeper. If you feel fine with this, then I feel fine with this. Go to the treasury after dinner. You're expected. I'm going to a meeting."

Téa, alarmed at Nesmut's mood swing, the second one that day, tried to stop her from leaving, but a quick "see you later" and a closed door muffled her spoken pleas.

And the silence that filled the room reminded her of how horribly alone she actually was. Despite her efforts, there was so much of this she still didn't understand. She was so very separate, and all it took was having Nesmut act erratically from what Téa was used to to prove that to her.

* * *

She'd tried to stay in the room, but her thoughts troubled her. She found herself thinking of Thema and Jabari again. Of their warmth and of their violent, undeserved demise. Then, she'd think of her friends, of her mom, of how she'd even gotten here, in this room, and it all started again. And then there was Nesmut. Just as she'd begun to understand the woman, she changed like the tide. What was up with her chilly behavior all of a sudden?

When she was forced to realize that her latest "happy" memory was of her unplanned, intimate moment with Malik, that's when she knew she had to get out of the room. Staying there with that state of mind couldn't be healthy, and dinner was still a few hours away.

She took one last look down at herself, sighing heavily. Nesmut had given her a complete lehenga choli, similar to the one Nesmut wore when Téa first met her except this one was blue and included the matching skirt. Which she loved, admittedly. It was long and flowing; she hadn't resisted giving a little twirl with it just to see the skirt flare up dramatically. The shirt, however, bore far too much of her midriff than she was comfortable with. She'd worn modern shirts like it before, of course; she'd even been daring and felt comfortable enough to wear a crop top to her surprise date with Yami, but these things had a time and a place.

This was neither the time nor the place.

_Just walk with confidence, _Téa coached herself. _Act like you belong here, and no one will bother you. And if they do, you can handle it. You dealt with that creep Johnny, and you can deal with these guys._

Except Johnny had been all loud-mouthed ego and little else. He wouldn't dare pull a knife on her or anything crazy like that, in public or private. It wasn't in his nature. She couldn't voice the same confidence with the people here.

And with that cheery thought, she left the room.

As predicted, she received stares from nearly everyone she passed in the halls, but that wasn't anything different from what she was used to. At one point, she ran into Saran, who'd been looking for Nesmut with the intent to return some clothes to her.

"Nesmut may not think so, but I consider her a friend," she said, smiling all the while. "I'd hate for her favorites to get taken up just because she's working harder than the rest of the women. And she seems to trust you, so…"

On the return trip to the room to drop off the clothes, Téa reasoned that she'd probably never see her modern day clothes again. She supposed that explained why Nefertari was wearing such a beautiful dress that day even during such a menial task; someone else might have snatched it from the clean pile they'd dumped on a table in what was jokingly dubbed the "laundry room" when she wasn't looking.

After accomplishing her task, she decided to go to the training room and at least look busy. It couldn't hurt to gain a little experience, and without Odion there, she found that she was much calmer and she handled the knives with better skill, though her aim still needed much improvement. She was even grateful for her new wardrobe, as it gave her a chance to adjust and learn to maneuver in such a cumbersome dress. She had no idea when she would need to defend herself, and tripping over the hem of her skirt wasn't something she could afford. She was just considering if there was some way she could incorporate her dancing skills and what she knew of acrobatics into some form of hand-to-hand when she felt someone sidle up to her.

"You look like you could use some help, new girl."

At first, she thought she'd somehow run into a talking bear, for the thing before her towered over her and was covered in dark hair, wearing a head covering and kilt. When a pair of yellowing, yet human teeth appeared from the thick of his black, short beard, she registered that it wasn't a bear but a hulking, grinning man instead. He was probably even taller than Odion!

_Isn't he hot with all that hair? _He must, because even her short bob felt stifling at times.

Realizing he'd probably caught her staring, she was about to politely decline his help when he swiftly plucked the last dagger she was holding from her hand.

_ Someone this big shouldn't be able to move that quickly._

Warily, she watched him examine it a moment.

"Hmm, too sharp," he said to himself, tossing the dagger aside. He shuffled over to the table where nearly every type of weapon was stocked for training purposes, but he scowled when he didn't seem to find what he wanted.

"Amun!" said another man with graying hair, a distinctive scar curved around his neck. "This what you want?" He held up another dagger in his hand. Téa was just scoping out the exit when the first man, Amun, returned with the other man's dagger. She wondered if this Amun was the same one Nefertari had mentioned in passing before, but that thought dissipated as soon she noticed what he was doing.

Dagger held before him, Amun spread his feet in a defensive stance, a concentrated look on his face. "Disarm me," he said.

"What?" She must have misheard. After all, how in the hell could she manage to pry that knife out of his meaty hands, even if she had experience with such things? An optimist, Téa was, at least until recently. Even so, she wasn't an idiot.

"You heard, little girl," he said. "Pretend I'm one of the Pharaoh's bastards, and get this dagger from me as if your life is at stake. Because it will be."

He was actually serious. Great.

But he _was _trying to help her, it looked like. How many chances like this would she get?

Puffing out a breath, Téa assumed a slight crouched position, blue eyes darting to and fro, looking for Amun's weak points. Unsurprisingly, she couldn't recognize anything beyond his tall frame. Maybe she could get him to spin around too quickly and cause him to trip?

_Yeah, and maybe after this, I'll propose to Bakura_.

Just as she thought he'd grown bored waiting for her to make a move, she sprung forward, seeking to drop all her weight on his outstretched arm in an attempt to loosen his hold. She never made it.

Instead, she felt herself caught by the arm and was spun around. That same arm was pulled back behind her, and a cry of pain escaped her as her assailant tugged it in an unnatural direction. She didn't have time to react before she felt cool metal against her throat, keeping her in place.

"That was pitiful," Amun's voice tutted in her ear. "I don't think you'll last a single raid at this rate, little girl."

Before she could retort, Amun removed the knife and shoved her forward. She still had some of her wits left, and she managed to roll herself back to her feet instead of allowing herself to skin up her hands and face plant in the sand as Amun intended. Apparently, that move wasn't enough to impress him, for now he looked incredibly bored, not even bothering to raise his knife or his guard.

Without warning, though, he charged her, jabbing the knife in an upward motion, intending to stab her in the stomach. Téa spun away just in time, making sure to keep her eyes on him for his next move.

"This isn't a dance, little kitten," he called back to her.

She felt herself grow cold and sickened at the pet name. Only one other person had called her that. Even though he had been a nightmare, it still counted, and she'd be damned before she tolerated it from anyone in reality.

"It's Téana, you idiot," she said. "Not 'little girl.' Not 'kitten.' Téana. You got it? _Té-an-a._"

"Aw, why the sudden animosity, little girl?" Amun smiled back, ignoring the brunette's spiking anger.

"You mean, besides the fact that you're a dumb brute?" she said.

"Ouch."

"Then, how about _you just tried to stab me?_"

Amun erupted into an amused chuckle, stopping nearly as suddenly as he had begun. "Respect is something _earned _around here, little girl. You wanna play with the big boys and girls, then you gotta prove your worth. If you can't even disarm me, then you may as well leave, because we have no use for a woman who can't defend herself. Damsels are better left dead.

"As for this," he said, holding up the knife gingerly, "it's a wonder you haven't noticed. Your inexperience is worse than I thought." He swiped the blade across his palm only to reveal that his hand was completely free of blood or injury.

"It's dull. I wouldn't risk spilling the blood of one of Lord Bakura's whores."

_That _did it. A line she didn't know she'd had had finally been crossed.

"You people really are full of crap," she hissed, finally losing her temper. "So much for this so-called equality you seem to be so fond of boasting about. You can't even contemplate a woman's worth is she's not for sex or for sport. Well, listen to me, you scruffy-looking nerfherder, I—AM—NOT—BAKURA'S—_ANYTHING! _Not now, not ever! Tell your friends, get the word out."

"Then prove it, little girl," he sneered. Amun wasn't sure what a nerfherder was, but he was pretty sure he should feel offended about it.

On the other hand, it looked like his goading had brought out the hellcat in this timid little kitten before him, and he mentally patted himself on the back for that accomplishment. She was much more appealing this way.

And if she was being truthful that she wasn't their leader's, that meant she was fair game, right?

He never got the chance to ask.

She charged straight at him, and he was ready for her, thinking she'd learned nothing from the first time she'd tried this. Before he could grab her again, she changed directions, feinting to the left, which he swung for.

Only to find that she wasn't there; his swing had been too slow.

Téa had gotten behind him, and she watched him turn slowly to try to find her. It was all the opportunity she needed.

He immediately tried to swing the knife down again, and she blocked his muscled arm with hers, wincing at the pain needling itself in her bones from the blow, but her momentum was already carrying her forward, making the pain worthwhile. She swung a sandaled foot forward, kicking him in the center of his left shin, and just like that, his gripped loosened on the knife, and he went tumbling down.

"OW! _Shit!_" Amun moaned, clutching his shin in pain. "That was a foul. A complete foul, little girl."

"I'll kick the other one if you need reminding of what my name is," Téa threatened. "Take your loss like the man you claim to be, Amun."

Amun somehow managed to groan and smile at the same time. "Point taken, but you'd never have managed this if I hadn't given you the push. Admit it."

Téa said nothing, unwilling to confirm how true his words really were. She'd been holding herself back, because she was so afraid of inciting someone's anger, of getting herself hurt. Of standing out. Undoubtedly, she needed to remain cautious, but that didn't mean she could let herself become timid, tip-toeing her way around the place. She had to be smart but not silent.

Nevertheless, that didn't mean his words were excusable…

"Still, though, _Téana_, all taunts aside, I don't think I deservedthat," he grouched, massaging his shin. Admittedly, the sight pleased Téa enough that she was able to ignore her own pain thrumming through her foot as she twirled the knife triumphantly in her hands, a grin on her face.

_Who's the little girl now, bitch?_ She felt like crowing in glee, and why not? Why couldn't she have this one thing and give him a taste of his own medicine?

But, everything froze—her hands, her smile, her oncoming comeback—when another, more familiar voice answered in her stead.

"I don't know, Amun. I'd say the lady gave you _exactly_ what you deserve."

There, leaning against a large boulder resting off to the side of the room and with a clear view of the spar, was Malik. The response was casual, airy, and almost immediately drowned out by the laughter of the other men that followed. She hadn't been aware that her little spar with Amun had gotten so much attention until the crowd around them unconsciously parted to let their second-in-command enter the circle. And how long had he even been watching, exactly?

_Of course, he would see me do something like this. I just can't catch a break._

But no amount of noise around her could make her unsee how Malik looked down at Amun with a mocking grin and narrowed eyes. They lingered on Malik's countenance before he could cover them with his usual, laidback air.

"Are you alright, Téana?" Malik said.

"Y-yeah. Um, Amun was just teaching me how to disarm a guard." For some reason, she felt like the guy was in more danger than she was at the moment, and she'd been in danger nonstop since she'd arrived.

"Really?" he drawled. "It looked to me more like he was poking a viper with a stick. What do think, boys?"

The men's timed laughter—like that of a gang of minions in a cheesy '80s film—sounded as if they came from farther away than they really were, despite the lingering echoes all around her. Her vision seemed to tunnel until it only focused on Malik, and she felt lightheaded as her anger at Amun completely abated. Suddenly she was all too aware of her and Malik's last meeting together. Of his patient teaching, gentle touch, and stunning eyes that seemed to linger on her when they shouldn't. Like they were doing right now.

But there was more, too, like of what had happened after he'd left, when she'd dreamed that… He admitted she could make him fall for her. Up until now, she had attributed that to some strange but amusing delirium from the home remedy, triggered from the heated but meaningless kiss they'd shared earlier.

And that was all it was, truly. The nervousness she suddenly felt at his presence—and she'd always felt nervous around him—was due to the enigma surrounding him. Someday, this man would be reincarnated, and whatever happened in this timeline between them would determine if he killed her friends and eventually herself or not. Even if his future self was responsible, how could she be anything but nervous around him? How could she not pay attention to and overanalyze everything he did, to the minutest detail? But days of ignoring her dream, of not seeing a trace of him for days, left her hyper-aware of him and of all the ways her brain was trying to mess with her.

"Not bad form, Téana," Malik said, redirecting his gaze on Amun's collapsed form, "but this should have been your first move all along. Your enemies won't give you this many chances."

"I know," she couldn't stop herself from snapping back. The fact that she felt a blush rising to her cheeks only fueled her irritation. _I've already gotten this 'little girl' treatment from Amun, so don't you dare start._

"If you knew, then why did you wait?" he asked, interestedly, giving her his full attention. She wished she hadn't responded and just let it go.

"I didn't want to hurt him on accident." She knew that was a stupid thing to say—the answering chuckles resounding around her verified that. Amun was built like a small fortress, complete with catapults and a moat; she couldn't really damage him permanently if she tried, but she couldn't think of any lie that sounded more convincing.

"This was an exercise," she defended her answer, glaring at the faces surrounding her. They seemed to be considering her words, at least. "It was obviously fake. I can tell the difference between someone who wants to hurt me and someone who doesn't."

_Can you say 'Hello, fake-dance-studio creep?'_

Sure, Yami had saved her from that one, but she'd learned since then. She wouldn't be passive against anyone who intended to hurt her; that's where her kindness had its limits.

"Then why'd you nail me in the shin," Amun interrupted, who was still nursing said appendage but had replaced his pained grimace with an amused smile.

She leveled her glare at him instead. "Because you pissed me off!"

Amun flinched back at her raised voice, and Malik released the laugh he'd been holding in all this time.

"Yeah, boys," Amun grumbled, "you can tell she's been hanging around Nesmut too much. She turns all the pretty ones mean."

As if her name summoned her, Nesmut was suddenly there, squatting down to Amun's frozen form to look him dead in the eyes.

Smiling sweetly, she said, "Any meanness Téana has, she came pre-packaged with, but I can fine tune it if you like. She's a sharp girl, and I could use an apprentice."

"Ah, no. No, no," Amun laughed nervously, rising to his feet to back away from the woman with the crazed look in her eye. "Téana's perfectly fine the way she is. Wouldn't change a thing. Really," he said, turning his focus on Téa with a pleading look, "you're quite fun. Let's do this again sometime?"

Catching on, Téa couldn't resist letting him sweat for a bit, anger against him still lingering. But even after all that he'd said, he still had managed to help her, and it wasn't in her to be cruel. She hurriedly replied, "Right, of course! Anytime, Amun. Only..." she couldn't help but add mischievously, "you really think I'm pretty?"

Amun's face loosened in shock, at a loss for words. Téa could even see the slight blush emerging from under his beard. Nesmut was looking at her with a mixture of amazement and pride.

But it was time to put him out of his misery. "Don't think about it too hard," Téa laughed. "You might hurt my feelings."

Was winking at him overkill? Well, she'd done it, so oh well. It seemed to be exactly what Amun needed, though, to realize she'd been messing with him.

"Women," he huffed, rising to his feet. A universal sign of acknowledgement rippled through all the men still lingering in the room.

With that, the crowd scattered like birds startled into flight, leaving Nesmut, Malik, and Téa to themselves.

"Have you been here this whole time, hussy?" Nesmut asked. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Téa felt relieved. It seemed whatever strange anger had gripped the ebony-haired woman previously had dissipated. Maybe her dealing with Bakura had something to do with it.

Not in a sexual way, she was sure, but in a "wow-you're-so-infuriating-I-want-to-strangle-you" way. Not unlike what she'd just went through with Amun, except with more words, less violence. Not that she doubted Bakura's violent tendencies, or Nesmut's for that matter.

"Yeah, I figured I would train a bit while you were off plotting. It was either that, or count the cracks in your room's walls again," she joked. "Oh, and I also returned some clothes to your room, courtesy of Saran. She's nice."

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Nesmut waved her off tiredly. "Whatever. Meeting's adjourned and I'm starving, so why don't we get something to eat now?"

"Actually," Malik said, "Téana and I have already made plans for dinner."

Nesmut looked as if she'd just seen a crocodile walk on its hind legs. "She did?"

_I did?_

"You don't mind, right? I'm sure Téana has been cooped up under your wing long enough these past few days. She needs a change. In the meantime, I'm sure Saran and your favorite person ever, Nefertari, would be delighted to share your company. You know the saying: 'Absence makes the heart—'"

"Fuck you, Malik."

"That's not quite how it goes, but I'm willing to compromise."

"Fine. You've got a point, I guess," Nesmut conceded. Not about Saran and Nefer, but about how much time she and Téa were spending together. She was hovering a bit, she knew that. Pointing at Téa, she said, "Just don't forget: treasury after dinner. Good? Good." With that, she exited the room, leaving them alone.

Wait, alone?

Apparently, at the word "dinner," the others filed hurriedly after Nesmut, eager for food. Apparently, the other women had been busy preparing a feast with all the fish some of the group had caught as the others washed the clothes. Word traveled fast around here.

"Are you particularly hungry right now?"

She nearly jumped at how close his voice sounded, not noticing that he'd come to stand beside her.

"Uh, not really," she said. _Not anymore_.

"Good," he responded, and—was he started to _circle _her? "Because you and I have some business to discuss before we can partake in some of the…_finer _pleasures of life."

A slight shiver made its way down her spine, and she couldn't tell if it was because of what he said, the quieter, deeper quality of his voice, the breath she felt wisp against the back of her neck, or the sudden chill she felt from the cool sweat on her skin.

Malik's vibrant, amethyst eyes held hers as he came to stand still in front of her. The flames of the various surrounding torches glinted in their depths, giving his eyes a shrouded, yet intense quality. She had no idea what they needed to talk about, what he felt was so important between them. Not unless he'd somehow figured out who she really was and where she was really from, but that wasn't possible.

She wished she could think that with any kind of certainty, but she couldn't. At any point, she expected him to turn on her in anger, just as her dreams always showed her he did. That despite how obviously, unfairly attractive he was, he harbored the most destructive anger and hatred within him, more than she'd ever seen anyone harbor before. She was just waiting for Fate to turn and show her just how fruitless her attempts to change her destiny—and his—really were.

A slow grin spread across his face, and she held her breath.

"We need to talk about that kiss," he murmured lowly.

She didn't release her breath. She didn't blink, didn't move an inch.

_Oh, no, this is much worse. Fate, you are an unbelievable bitch_.

She knew the devil he could be. She was crystal clear of that, in fact. But this one, simply spoken sentence presented to her a side of her enemy that she'd never dared to imagine. A side that was equally as dangerous as the other, but for different reasons, reasons that seemed to be somehow dependent on her, and she had no hint as to how to respond to ensure that she would escape with herself intact. Yes, this was so much worse.

And from the look on his face, he knew it, too.

* * *

**A/N: So, I'm thinking I'm finally about halfway through with this story now. Maybe? That's what it feels like, yet there's still so much to cover. I know this chapter was a bit filler-y, but it was necessary. Expect some action-the physical, not sexual kind, sorry-in the next chapter. Things are gonna get fun. I hope you all are still with me, and THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed and favorited. You all have kept me going.**


End file.
